


Inertia

by Sincosma



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst with Fluff ending, I promise the end is worth it, I swear I'm not gonna fuck you up too much, M/M, So much angst, everyone lives au, i don't think you fully understand how angsty this is, so many feelings, why am I so terrible to my children?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-02 18:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincosma/pseuds/Sincosma
Summary: Softer words that nearly revealed all were always a breath away for Link, threatening to destroy the oasis they had found together at the meadow. But then, the meadow couldn't protect their mortality. Now, more than ever, he felt that dark terror lingering somewhere in his gut. It threatened lost opportunity, stronger than the fear of rejection. Slash, Revalink, angst, slowburn.





	1. Chapter 1

Inertia  
 _By Sincosma_  
   
A/N: A one-shot that got carried away (as all things do with me). Slight AU for minor event manipulation. In case it’s not clear based on the pairing info, this is Revalink and therefore interspecies. This is guaranteed to be more angst than you bargained for, but trust me.  
Rating: T; language, suicide mention, PTSD, so much angst but it is redeemed by fluff.  
   
—  
   
Chapter One  
   
   
When an arrow met its target, it didn’t just bounce off the surface. Link was a better shot than that, thank you very much. No, it carried a force that he had known as an irreversible law of nature long before his knowledge of the Stasis rune. That arrow would plow through anything with enough give.  
   
Inertia would always be accounted for.  
   
Link usually felt like that arrow—Ganon was defeated, his 102-year mission finally complete, peace restored in the kingdom…yet he couldn’t stop the same patterns he had carved into his life since awakening two years ago in the Shrine of Resurrection. He still wandered Hyrule and he still managed to stumble into every potential fight within a 1-league radius.  
   
In the context of the metaphor, however, Link was _not_ presently the arrow. He was the _target,_ if the arrow sticking out of his upper arm was any evidence.  
   
Life’s funny like that.  
   
Link ended the fight quickly, even with the injury. It didn’t even matter what he had been fighting, really. Just another monster in a landscape of minions losing power every day since the fall of Ganon. No more Blood Moons, no more hoards, no more shadows. Maybe Link didn’t have the seal of darkness strapped to his back anymore, but people and monsters alike knew who he was.  
   
The Hero that defeated Ganon.  
   
He made a fire in the shelter of a dilapidated barn. In its amber light, he carefully removed the crudely-made arrow. As he expected, the shaft broke from the steel arrowhead almost immediately. With a soft growl under his breath, he yanked the Sheikah Slate from his belt and used Magnesis to pull it out of his arm. Crude? Absolutely. But Link was, if anything, resourceful.  
   
“The Queen wants that back, you know.”  
   
Link leapt to his feet, sword out. He had been conditioned to live his life as a coiled spring, ready to fight at the slightest provocation. He even recognized the voice before he moved, but there would be no stopping the reactionary patterns his body would always follow.  
   
Revali fell gracefully through the giant hole in the roof, on the other side of the fire. As he did every time, he felt a weird thump in his chest when he met that piercing gaze. Revali crossed his wings and eyed Link’s sword with his typical unimpressed smirk.  
   
“Are you her messenger hawk, then?” Link said, rolling his eyes as he clicked his blade back into its sheath.  
   
“Hawks can’t speak.”  
   
“Wishful thinking, I guess.” The noise Revali made pulled a few laughs out of Link as he sat back down to finish tending to his wound.  
   
“What did you do _now_?” Revali asked, sounding _very_ exasperated. Just enough to cover up the concern beneath it. He was an easy read now that Link had had enough encounters with him to learn his ways.  
   
“Oh, you know me.” Blood was dripping from his elbow, a dark red rope of liquid slithering down his skin.  
   
“I do,” the Rito agreed darkly.  
   
Link cleaned it up the best he could, managing to pull off his tunic and avoid further stains. He held a cloth to the wound with one hand and fished through his pack with his other. But it was taking too long and the cloth was already saturated and leaking.  
   
“Oh, for Goddess’ sake, Link,” Revali snapped, pulling the pack from him and procuring red potion in just one motion. The Rito crouched down, swatted his hands away, and poured the burning liquid into the wound. Just as Link yelped, Revali pushed the bottle into his mouth. “Drink the rest.”  
   
He grumbled about it but downed the remainder of the potion and tossed the bottle aside. “Flew all the way from Hebra to be my mother?”  
   
“You’re _welcome_.” Revali moved back to the opposite of the fire and sat, folding his bow carefully over his lap. “I didn’t fly from Hebra. I’ve been at the castle the past four days.”  
   
Since the conclusion of Ganon’s reign, Link had felt a painful disconnect from Zelda and the other Champions. The little bits of memories he had managed to retrieve painted a picture of someone he no longer was. In that prior life, it seemed like he barely spoke, held up a wall leagues high, and did everything that was expected of him. Even before unearthing his first memory of the past, he had become someone different—seeing how he used to be bothered him deeply.  
   
Because which Link was the _real_ one?  
   
And part of him felt some resentment towards the relationship the other Champions had. When Hylia had been kind enough to bring them back from the grave, they all resumed their friendships. But Link could only sense those feelings through a keyhole in the fog of Great Hyrule Forest. Any time he learned of a meeting between any of them, he couldn’t block out the strange jealousy. Or the devastating loneliness.  
   
“What were you doing there?”  
   
“Zelda summoned me. About you.”  
   
Being a warrior made Link more observative than most. Every flicker of eye movement, every breath, every movement, every tone…they told him exactly what he wanted to know. Revali, out of all the champions, was the easiest read for Link. Well, no, that wasn’t true. They were _all_ easy for him to read.  
   
Correction: Revali was the most _interesting_ to read.  
   
His piercing green eyes held Link’s gaze, as they always did. The Rito never backed down from anything—eye contact, confrontation, competition. He wasn’t going to elaborate on his statement until Link started the conversation. Which didn’t bode well.  
   
“Are they putting up a statue of me in the Sacred Ground Ruins?” Link teased. But there was tension under the tone he couldn’t prevent.  
   
“It’s been two years, Link. You’re still out here. Doing…doing whatever it is you’re doing. The Queen wants to see you.” Revali’s voice was softer than Link expected.  
   
“I saw her a few months ago! She was in Hateno—”  
   
“The _castle_ , Link. She wants you to come to the castle,” he said with a sigh.  
   
Link meant to fall silent, not comment on it, maybe hedge and find a way out of the conversation. Maybe even pack up and head out. His wound was healed, and he wasn’t tired so maybe he could continue to East Necluda.  
   
His mouth, however, had other plans.  
   
“I’m not going back there.” Link almost covered his mouth with his hand, vaguely offended that his lips had betrayed him. He had been so careful at avoiding the whole _castle_ topic and now he just opened that topic with arguably the biggest, loudest mouth in Hyrule.  
   
But he had also said it in that _tone_. It was that undertone of _I have a lot of issues_ that he usually kept under wraps, please see “avoiding the whole _castle_ topic” for reference.  
   
Link expected Revali to ask why, to probe him for answers, expose his soft underbelly or whatever. But instead he asked, “Link, where did you go after that day?”  
   
He blinked, having not expected that question. No one had asked him that. They asked him how he was, what he had been doing in the wild, et cetera, but never _that_ question. And, now that Link thought about it, he wondered why no one had asked him that before. He _had_ , after all, been missing for a week after the fight, only to eventually make his way to Hateno.  
   
“I…went to the Temple of Time.”  
   
“Why?” Revali asked, voice somehow softer.  
   
And Link didn’t like it. It made him feel like a glass object to be handled with care. He much preferred the quippy, antagonistic Revali if only for the emotional distance.  
   
“It was the first place I went after I woke up in the shrine. It was…I don’t know, like my first home? I just…” Link forced himself to stop speaking. He was already revealing way too much, a trend that had been growing every time he saw Revali. What was it about him that always made Link spill his guts?  
   
The fire between them ignited the red around Revali’s piercing eyes and on his cheeks. Link had, at some point, joked about him blushing. But now the color looked like flames.  
   
An emotion punched its way into his chest. It was suffocating and painful and so indescribable, Link couldn’t possibly locate its origin. It was almost like longing, but then it was also anger. It felt like he had unlocked a new memory, but the only thing he saw was the new scarf Revali wore. It was the color of sand with a faded red fringe. No, it was an _old_ scarf, he realized, the one he wore before becoming a champion. But how did Link know that?  
   
He wanted to reach across the fire and grab that stupid scarf and…what? What the hell was this emotion?  
   
“You should’ve come with us to Kakariko. The Queen was very worried about you, like she is now.”  
   
“Did she enlist you to capture me?” Link asked, abruptly suspicious.  
   
Revali gave a dramatic sigh. “ _Goddess_ , Link, no! Everyone is worried about you, moron! You save the day and then disappear into the ether.”  
   
“There’s no reason to be worried about me. I’m fine.” Link paused, narrowing his eyes at Revali as a thought occurred to him. “Wait…you’re the first champion to do…to do whatever it is you think you’re doing. Why would Zelda send you? From my limited memories, we basically hated each other and even now, as much as I enjoy the banter, we’re not exactly close. Why wouldn’t she send…uh, Mipha? Wasn’t I close to her?”  
   
Revali, being a Rito, somehow managed to convey the look of a bristling cat. And those green eyes could become real daggers when provoked. An angry Revali certainly realigned with Link’s memories.  
   
“I knew this was going to be a waste of time. She implored me for _three days_ to come find you! I spent the whole day tracking you and for what? Surprisingly, there are people that actually care about you, you know? Urbosa, Mipha, Daruk; they’re all pretty hurt that you can’t even make an effort to see them somewhere between your mindless wandering and —”  
   
Link was on his feet.  
   
“You just don’t even get it, do you? _Do you_?” Link snarled, thoughts checking out as his anger washed in like a tsunami. “I don’t know _any of you_! All of you know _each other_. You remember each other! You’re the _same people_! I’m not the same person! In all my hazy memories, I was this, this, _silent_ , _uptight_ _knight_ that never spoke for himself or did anything other than be the Hero! That’s _not_ what _I’m_ like! I woke up alone, in a pool of water, and didn’t know who I was! I had _nothing_. Just a Sheikah Slate, some stories, and endless fingers pointing me in different directions. And occasionally I found a place that triggered a memory. Sometimes they were nice, sometimes they were heartbreaking, sometimes they were _horrifying_.  
   
“All I could do was keep moving, trying to figure out what the _fuck_ I was supposed to be doing. I needed an actual map to get around. Hyrule was completely alien to me. And then I’d go to Zora’s Domain, Gerudo Town, Goron City, and Rito Village and people would tell me how one of you died and it’s because _I failed_. I didn’t even know _how_ I failed because I _don’t remember_. So, no, I don’t go see everyone because it’s just a painful reminder of the person I’m not and will never be again. And I _can’t_ go back to that castle because I know I’ll just…just…” Link faltered, running out of steam. His words were too heavy with pain now—even if he wanted to, he couldn’t have finished the sentence.  
   
“All I’ve ever known how to do is wander around Hyrule, kill anything that attacks me, and just try to find happiness _somewhere_. But I can’t find happiness in meetings and dinners, surrounded by people and stories and things I don’t remember. So don’t pass judgement on me for doing the only thing I’ve _ever_ known how to do, Revali.”  
   
Silence followed, thick and tense. Revali stared at him, shocked and…sad? It was a gaze Link could no longer meet so he turned away, pulling his tunic back on and packing his things. He had no intention in continuing the conversation. He felt empty now, the darkness that had always drifted beneath the surface of the waves suddenly pulled aboard. It was going to take days for him to feel normal again. He was certain the nightmares that he had so recently rid himself of would return.  
   
“I’m not judging you, Link,” Revali said, voice low and serious. Link didn’t look at him. “I didn’t know you felt like that. None of us knew…it’s not like you told us. We all thought…your memories were slowly returning.”  
   
Link shouldered his pack, eyes on the fire as he felt that same emotion bubble up in him from before. It felt so foreign and so familiar at the same time. Like déjà vu. He pulled the Sheikah Slate off his belt and held it out to Revali, finally meeting his eyes. And he hated what he saw.  
   
Pity. Or, maybe Revali was just bad at sympathy.  
   
“She doesn’t actually want it back,” he said, climbing to his feet.  
   
“Then you lied.”  
   
His face folded into anger and Link braced himself for whatever ire the Rito was about to unleash on him. But a few moments passed in silence, just staring at each other, waiting. Revali cast his eyes to the ground and the world might as well have turned upside down—Link had _never_ seen him stare at his feet or avoid eye contact.  
   
“There _is_ a reason Zelda sent _me_ —but if you don’t remember, then never mind. Carry on. I’ll tell her to leave you be.” The words were clipped, each syllable just barely making it out of his beak. Emotion was churning beneath that tone and, for one moment, Link felt fear.  
   
Not the type of fear that monsters and nighttime brought. Or even fighting Ganon himself. This was a different fear that was somehow worse. Hurting people seemed to be Link’s primary character trait and this issue wasn’t a monster he could slay. This was an arena he knew nothing about and he could no longer stand the sight of broken faces and despondent tones.  
   
“What don’t I remember, Revali?” Why did he ask? He really didn’t know.  
   
“You said it yourself, Link. You’re not the same person you were before. So it doesn’t matter, does it?”  
   
“Oh, okay, great. I did something to hurt you when I was, uh, a _different person_ and instead of just telling me, so I at least have a chance to apologize, you’re just going to keep it to yourself.” The sarcasm came out like toxin, so he left the barn. “Solid plan, Revali. Solid.”  
   
Link, fully rattled, stepped into the woods and headed east. Revali didn’t follow.  
   
—  
   
It seemed the more days that passed after his conversation—confrontation?—with Revali, the more details he managed to glean from the encounter.  
   
Link had learned early on that the Rito’s prickly exterior was just that. An exterior. What hid beneath, he could only speculate, but since the champions had been returned, Revali never settled back into the extreme superiority complex those uncovered memories revealed. Maybe 100 years of loneliness changed him. Or maybe he had matured, just like Link had. Or maybe his memories were just the handful of times Revali was _really_ mean, and the rest of the time they got along okay.  
   
With nothing to compare to, all these guesses were just that, at least without consulting someone that was old enough to have known what they were like around each other. Asking any of the champions, Revali included, was out of the question.  
   
No matter what he tried to distract himself with, that night had opened wounds. Old wounds. Wounds that had no obvious location but just _hurt_. Each piece of what he observed was stitched together into a canvas he desperately wanted to eject from his mind.  
   
Link had never heard Revali speak so quietly. Those eyes—Hylia, those _eyes_ —made him want to crawl under the closest rock. Because the more he reflected on it, the more he began to realize that that pity or sympathy he saw wasn’t actually for Link; it was for Revali himself.  
   
What the hell had Link done to upset him so badly?  
   
It was incredible how shaking the unshakeable could, well, _shake_ someone.  
   
Going to Kakariko wasn’t really a conscious decision. It may have just been an instinctual one. Maybe in his old life, Impa was someone he went to for guidance. Or at least he did in this one.  
   
Kakariko Village remained to be one of his favorite places in Hyrule. There was something serene about the people there, as though time passed slower and the trouble of the surrounding kingdom couldn’t pass its borders. If the Temple of Time hadn’t held such comfort for him, he probably would’ve gone to Kakariko. Perhaps, if there was anything Revali said that was true, he _should_ have gone there after the battle.  
   
“Hello, Lady Impa,” he said, voice coming out rough from disuse.  
   
She bowed her head in greeting, shurikens clinking delicately. “Link. It’s good to see you. It’s been some time.”  
   
“Sorry about that…I keep myself pretty busy.”  
   
Impa raised an eyebrow, expression immediately warning him that he was going to be called out on his bullshit. He wanted to open his mouth and add something to maybe mitigate what was to come, but it probably wouldn’t have helped anyway.  
   
“Yes, very busy. Busy running from your past. You saved this kingdom and, when you should be settling down and trying to enjoy your life, you’re living like a nomad, no less in danger than before,” she said. The deadpan voice in combination with those critical eyes was lethal. Impa was one of the few people he would never argue with, so he just leaned his head back and stared at the dim, dusty ceiling. “But I imagine you didn’t come to be nagged. What brings you here?”  
   
Link sighed. Not a dramatic one or a tired one…maybe just a nervous one. Why was he nervous?  
   
“None of my memories have returned, outside of the ones I uncovered from the pictures in the Sheikah Slate. I…I feel so…”  
   
“Isolated?” she supplied, not missing a beat.  
   
Link nodded. “I don’t know who I used to be. From what little I’ve remembered, I was…boring. Quiet. Obedient.”  
   
Impa let out a laugh so loud, it startled him. The grin that accompanied it seemed to crack her stoic face in half. “You were _anything_ but quiet and obedient. Sure, when it came to the Queen, you were the very model of a devoted knight and Hero chosen to save Hyrule. But you’ve always been stubborn, passionate, loud, and _so_ sarcastic when you want to be. Things became very tense the many months leading up to Ganon’s return, however. You became so quiet and focused. We all tried to support you, but you shut almost everyone out.”  
   
“How different am I now?” Link feared the answer, but this was why he had come to Kakariko and he’d be damned if he didn’t do the things he said he would do.  
   
She leaned back, smile turning wistful as she softly hummed.  
   
“You were eighteen, so of course you’re different now. You’re, what, twenty? Well, _one hundred_ and twenty. You’re more mature now. I think it’s unwise to dwell on such differences. People change, Link. Sometimes more drastically than you and they don’t have the excuse of amnesia. You’re the same person at your core, even if you speak differently now or you have a different favorite color. You’re still honest, loyal, kind, and, most of all, _courageous_. You must find comfort in this truth. Once you do, you can end this self-imposed isolation.”  
   
Link let those words wash over him, allowing them to settle into each pore and hoping he would believe them. And he sort of did. He needed time to chew on it.  
   
“There is an ancient fairy fountain beneath the castle. There is a map to it in Zelda’s library. Bathing in it _might_ recover your lost memories,” Impa added. “If you think you’ll find no comfort in my words, you could try the fountain.”  
   
Which would involve going to the castle. Wonderful.  
   
“Thank you, Lady Impa. I really appreciate your words,” Link said, wishing he had the bravery to ask the other question he had intended on voicing but…  
   
“Of course. As long as I am alive, I shall be here to offer guidance.” She tilted her head for a moment, shurikens chiming once more. “Ask me your last question.”  
   
Impa and her perceptive nature. Perhaps it was for the best.  
   
“I…fear that I did something to hurt someone’s feelings in my old life. And now I’ve forgotten what it was and I think it’s hurting them even more.” He forced the words out, that mystery emotion that possessed him a week ago returning to the pit of his stomach.  
   
“Link, I may seem like an ancient, all-seeing clairvoyant, but it’s just a wrinkly face and a big hat—I’m not a psychic, so who are you talking about?”  
   
“Revali.” The word came out in one big push.  
   
“I knew that’s who you were talking about but I wanted to make you say it.” The old Sheikah let out a loud, breathy guffaw. “Yes, you and Revali have had an interesting past. Unfortunately, I really don’t know what happened. That was something between the two of you that, from my knowledge, no one else would know. You will simply have to ask him.”  
   
“I did. And he said that I wasn’t the same person anymore, so why does it matter?” There was a bitterness that peeked out between his words and he hated the sound of it.  
   
“That stupid bird…” Impa muttered. “Revali is a mess. Always has been. He was especially insufferable until you two became friends. He mellowed out a bit after that.”  
   
“He and I were _friends_?” Link demanded. There had been no indication of that in his memories. And he really hadn’t seen the Rito very much since defeating Ganon, so he could hardly count brief meetings as examples of _any_ variation of friendship.  
   
“I don’t see why you can’t _still_. Perhaps if you stopped rolling around like a tumbleweed, you could rekindle that friendship.” Link couldn’t help but sigh. “There’s a place near Rito Village that you two liked to spend time together, when I would take over guarding Zelda. It’s by Warbler’s Nest—there’s a small meadow nearby with a perfect view of the village. If specific locations unlocked memories for you before, I don’t see why that wouldn’t be the case again.”  
   
“Thank you.” He bowed to her, mind buzzing with this new information.  
   
“You’re welcome, Link. Go find happiness. You, out of everyone in this kingdom, deserve it most. Don’t forget that.”  
   
Impa’s word hit a tender spot in his mind and he left before that pain could travel up his throat.  
 

 

\--

 

You may be thinking to yourself, "Gee, how could this get any more angsty?" Hold that thought...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
   
Link, in any other situation, would’ve typically preferred to travel by foot but in this case, he used the Sheikah Slate to materialize at the Warbler’s Nest shrine. He was too impatient for the five- or six-day’s travel. Since learning of this surprising friendship, Link wanted to know more with an alarming ferocity.  
   
The temperature change from Necluda to Tabantha left him a little breathless, despite having already changed into his snowquill armor. It was a little after midnight, the moon hanging full and heavy above him, painting the world in silver. Smoke puffed from his mouth as he gazed up at Rito Village woven like a delicate string of lights around a pillar of stone—it truly was the most beautiful village in Hyrule. He had always thought that…but now he was starting to wonder if his old self thought that for different reasons. He couldn’t speculate just yet—he had promised himself.  
   
Link worried he wouldn’t find the meadow Impa spoke of, but his feet carried him there with practiced ease. It was isolated from the path up into the Hebra mountains, naturally corralled by stone cliffs to leave an entry the width of a few meters. Facing the edge of the cliff, Rito Village was a luminous, moonlit painting above him in the fragile air.  
   
For a while, he just wandered the meadow. It wasn’t very big, so there was only so much “wandering” to be done, but he thought as hard as he could about Revali, hoping it would trigger something. _Anything_. He had to know. He hadn’t realized just _how much_ he needed to know. If it meant doing laps in a meadow at midnight to find out then—  
   
—  
   
 _“What are you doing here?”_  
   
 _Link glanced over his shoulder, seeing the Rito champion standing at the entrance of the meadow with a pinched expression on his face. At least it wasn’t the toxic glare he had received months ago when they first met._  
   
 _“Taking a break. Is that a problem?” He couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice—Revali’s consistent hostility had begun to wear on him._  
   
 _The Rito paused, eyes narrowed as they assessed him. Those green eyes were still the most piercing color he had ever seen in his life._  
   
 _“Ah, so you_ can _speak.” Revali crossed through the meadow and sat beside him. This was new. “This is my favorite view of the village.”_  
   
 _Okay, this was_ very _new. This was the first time Link had heard him say something pleasant, that wasn’t a challenge or a brag. And it was nice. He hoped it would last._  
   
 _“That’s sort of how I ended up here. It’s beautiful.”_  
   
 _Revali hummed, eyes trained on his home and…he was a different person. Link watched the tension fade from his brows and beak. Even his arms seemed to relax as he leaned back on them. The sun tinted his deep blue plumage into something more in the neighborhood of purple. If_ this _had been the Revali he first met he would’ve…_  
   
 _“I thought you were charged with being by the Princess’s side at all times.” Well, that_ tone _wasn’t gone._  
   
 _“Impa’s watching her. I get a break now and then.”_  
   
 _“I didn’t know heroes needed breaks. Maybe you really are just mortal after all,” Revali said, sarcasm layered thick enough to get under Link’s skin._  
   
 _“You know, I don’t think I’m better than you. I wish you’d realize that. I’m just…some kid. Some kid that pulled a sword out of stone. If I could give it to you, I would. But I can’t. And maybe it’s for the best because I wouldn’t wish this kind of pressure on_ anyone _,” he snapped._  
   
 _Silence followed his words and Link kept his eyes trained on the village, watching the graceful shapes of Rito flying to and from their homes. He had almost fooled himself into pretending conflict wasn’t coming, he was just Link, and this was just a vacation to the Hebra Mountains before Revali arrived._  
   
 _“If you weren’t doing this, what would you be doing?”_  
   
 _Not the question Link expected, but it felt much like a lifeboat for his now sunken mood._  
   
 _“I don’t know. I was chosen for this when I was young. Any chance I had of having a normal...” Link paused. Why was he sharing all of this with Revali? He pried his eyes from the village and found the Rito looking at him, not in the expected array of expressions Link was accustomed to—irritation, exasperation, boredom—but in an odd mix between curiosity and sympathy._  
   
 _Link stood up quicker than he meant to, but he couldn’t sit there anymore and be on the receiving end of that kind of look. He wasn’t even completely sure_ why _it bothered him. Just that it did. “It’s time for me to get back to the Princess,” he said quietly and left._  
   
—  
   
He came gasping back to reality, standing just where he’d left off, Rito Village glimmering in the distance. That feeling was remotely similar to the one he experienced on the other side of the fire in Faron, watching that expression on Revali’s face. It was stronger now than it had been back then, however, so perhaps that meant there was more to glean from this meadow.  
   
Link settled down in the grass and closed his eyes, trying to slowly coax his mind back in time, as though he were carefully climbing down a ladder. And for a while, the effort seemed wasted—there was a bug crawling on his leg that needed swatting, a piece of equipment that was starting to dig into him...and then.  
   
—  
   
 _“How did the test go?” Link asked, wincing as he slowly lowered to the grass._  
   
 _“The Princess is right about you—can’t sit still to save your life, literally,” Revali said in a sour tone, casting a disapproving glare at Link. “How did you even get over here with those injuries?”_  
   
 _Link glanced down at his arm, still bandaged in a sling, and at his thigh, bound just as tightly. He would’ve shrugged if the motion wouldn’t have been painful. “I have my ways. Needed some air.”_  
   
 _“Air.” The tone made Link glance over and grin at Revali’s incredulous expression. “You needed air from a room with no walls.”_  
   
 _Without thinking, Link_ did _shrug—and boy, did he regret it immediately—and told him, “I’m picky about what_ kind _of air I need.”_  
   
 _Revali let out an almost petulant sigh. “Next time, just tell me and I’ll_ safely _bring you here, you idiot.”_  
   
 _“How kind.”_  
   
 _They fell into silence. And it seemed each time they met there and went quiet, that silence became more and more comfortable. The past six months had made every peaceful escape to the meadow more and more precious. The shadows were growing deeper in the kingdom and all the champions were feeling the pressure build. Although they’d had full control of the Divine Beasts for months now, there seemed to be endless work to be done._  
   
 _“While you were busy being nearly killed by a talus, the new weapons test I conducted with Medoh has her at ninety-six percent power. I anticipate we’ll be at a hundred percent by the end of next week.”_  
   
 _“That’s excellent, Revali. Well done.”_  
   
 _“Thanks. We’re almost there. Finally.”_  
   
 _With exchanges like these, it was almost hard to believe they had maneuvered past the initial stage of antagonism. Link wondered if his words from their first meeting in the meadow were what had paved the way to friendship, or if they would’ve found a truce another way. It wasn’t always completely civil—there were still plenty of arguments—but there was a mutual respect that underpinned each insult and criticism._  
   
 _“Link, why do you do such stupid shit?”_  
   
 _“Huh?” Link gave him a bewildered look. It wasn’t common for Revali to be so crass. Insults, however? Very common._  
   
 _“There was no reason for you to continue fighting that talus. You should’ve retreated. You’re lucky I saw you from Medoh and intervened.” That tone. It hovered somewhere between concern and anger. “Why are you so incapable of backing down when you’re out-matched?”_  
   
 _While he might have bristled at the accusation six months ago, now he just shook his head. Because Revali was, to a certain extent, right. Link’s primary weakness had always been misjudging whether or not he had a tactical advantage. He used to think that was sometimes a good quality for a knight...until he met Revali._  
   
 _“I don’t know. My father always used to tell me that combat was a physical_ and _mental art. If you convince yourself you’ll win, you have a much better chance of doing so. Probably the only useful thing he ever gave me.”_  
   
 _He could feel Revali looking at him, but he kept his eyes on Medoh as it circled above the village. The sun was beginning to set, oranges and reds staining the underside of the divine beast._  
   
 _“What does your father think of you being the prophesized Hero?”_  
   
 _“I don’t know. He killed himself when I was fourteen, shortly before I went to the Knight’s Academy.”_  
   
 _There was a pause. It wasn’t something many people knew and, truth be told, Link wasn’t exactly sure why he told Revali. But he didn’t regret it either._  
   
 _“What about your mother?” Revali’s voice was quieter now._  
   
 _“She died when I was eight.”_  
   
 _“I’m sorry.”_  
   
 _Plenty had said those two words to him. Sometimes said it in far more than two words. There were times he appreciated them and times he didn’t. This time, however, there was something about the way Revali said it that hinted at what could’ve been his own loss._  
   
 _“What about your parents?” Link asked. There was a decent probability that the question would be blocked, but he figured it was only fair that he return the favor._  
   
 _“My parents came here from a different tribe, far away from Hyrule. War broke out and my father injured his leg so we fled when I was barely a fledgeling. My father died of his injuries on the journey. When my mother finally arrived at Rito Village, she placed me on a landing and left. The Elder took me in and raised me as his own.”_  
   
 _“I’m...I’m sorry, Revali,” he said quietly. Now some of Revali’s behavior made sense and, in some ways, he wished it didn’t._  
   
 _“No wonder we’re so dysfunctional, huh?”_  
   
 _Link stared at Revali in shock;_ never _had he heard the Rito insult himself. Juxtaposed to the typical, braggadocious ego, the dark and humorous tone made him wonder if he was still talking to the same Revali. Or perhaps this was the_ real _Revali he was finally getting at._  
   
 _“Speak for yourself. I’m perfect,” he said, imitating Revali’s now-less-common tone of superiority._  
   
 _This earned him a soft snort._  
   
 _“In my mind, I had to prove that I was_ worth _the hassle of raising an abandoned fledgling. Which, now that I’m older, I realize wasn’t true at all._ Everyone _took me in and helped raise me, not just the Elder, and they were happy to do it. The best archer in the village gladly took me under his wing and cultivated my obsession. Ever since that day, I’ve pushed myself to the brink of destruction over and over to surpass him. I’ve always felt that if I was the best, I could protect this village and repay the people that raised me.”_  
   
 _“And then, in walks some quiet Hylian kid that’s only special because a sword says so,” Link provided._  
   
 _“Don’t turn self-deprecation into a competition, too, Link.”_  
   
 _“Worried I’ll win?” Link paused for a moment, taking in what had just been shared. He almost couldn’t believe Revali had actually opened up enough to share something so personal. “Who knew there was such a heart of gold under that ego.”_  
   
 _The Rito rolled his eyes and shook his head. Link laid back on the grass, wincing at the ache in his lower back, and watched the soft halo of deep blue where it met with the light pink of the setting sun. He hadn’t realized he’d nodded off until something nudged him and he opened his eyes to stars._  
   
 _“C’mon, Link. Your bandages need changing. I’ll take you back,” Revali said quietly._  
   
 _—_  
   
 _“Just because you’re destined to save Hyrule doesn’t mean you’re untouchable, Link!” Revali thundered, crowding Link’s space._  
   
 _“I’m_ fine _! Mipha was there, so I was healed before—”_  
   
 _“Mipha won’t always be there to heal you!”_  
   
 _Link’s temper was rising so he turned his back on the Rito and paced. “So I was supposed to just let all those moblins attack them?”_  
   
 _“That’s_ not _what I’m saying and you know it. Urbosa and Daruk were right there. All you had to do was signal them and your life wouldn’t have been in that kind of danger. You have to stop thinking it’s your job to protect_ everyone _.”_  
   
 _“Why are you nagging me about this? I’m fine!” Link held his arms out, almost like wings, as if to demonstrate his wellbeing._  
   
 _“Nagging doesn’t even_ cover it _. We can’t afford you being this reckless, Link! You have to defeat Ganon and—”_  
   
 _Link let out a wordless shout, spinning around and discontinuing his pacing. “Yes, thank you so much for reminding me of my duty to the kingdom. I had forgotten, thank Goddess you’re here to remind me. What do you even care? If I die, maybe the Goddess will give_ you _the sword and we’ll actually have a fighting chance against Ganon.”_  
   
 _He heard a loud flap and roar of wind behind him and half a second later, Revali landed in his path, shoving him against the nearest tree._  
   
 _“Shut_ up _!” Revali snarled. “We don’t have time for this self-doubting bullshit. I might act like I don’t care most of the time, but I_ do _, you moron. Maybe_ you _should start acting like_ you _care.”_  
   
 _“I do care. I care so much, no one has any idea what kind of pressure I’m under right now because I don’t say it,” Link replied, voice laced with quiet fury. “You think I didn’t get this lecture from everyone else?”_  
   
 _And with that, he pushed off the tree and stalked away, arms crossed tightly as he struggled to calm down. Fighting with Revali used to be so commonplace. But it was rare, now, and its presence bothered him too much. He stopped at the edge of the meadow and stared at the water below._  
   
 _He wondered idly if Revali had left—it wouldn’t have surprised him. But when he saw the Rito stand next to him in his peripheral, he was relieved. Link’s dwindling reserves of calm were only replenished in these times with him, he had only recently realized. In fact, he_ needed _it this time. Much of his anger stemmed from the frustration that this sort of fight only wasted a precious resource._  
   
 _Link sat, forehead pressed to his arms where they rested on his knees. It was a pose he usually associated with children but lately, that’s all he felt like. Not a Hero. A child._  
   
 _“I don’t want to fight with you, Revali,” Link said, lifting his head to stare ahead in an unfocused sort of way. “I know I’m reckless. I never had a good role model growing up. My father took his own life. Maybe that taught me that my life...doesn’t have that much value.”_  
   
 _Revali sat down beside him, close enough that he felt feathers brush against his side._  
   
 _“But you know that it_ does _, Link. I know that you know that. You’re not your father. You’re more than he’ll ever be.” Revali’s words somehow achieved the strangest quality of hard and soft at the same time. “And I know the pressure you’re under. You don’t even have to say it. I see it weigh on you. Every time you come here, you look more exhausted, you talk less, you smile less, and you have a least one or two new scars. I see how much the King pushes you and...you deserve more consideration than he gives you.”_  
   
 _“Ganon is coming. All that matters is that I’m strong enough to defeat him when he arrives,” Link murmured, voice coming out in a numb way that made him cringe._  
   
 _“No, that’s_ not _all that matters, Link,” Revali argued, leaning forward to catch Link’s gaze. Those razor sharp green eyes held enough passion to fuel any war and he couldn’t look away from them. “You’re not some slave. You’re a whole person. You’ve been chosen to wield that sword and defeat Ganon, yes, but that is not_ all _you’re worth. You deserve happiness and respect. And if you won’t fight to receive them, I’ll fight for them and speak with King Rhoam.”_  
   
 _The words cut deep into Link’s throat, choking his rebuttal. They left a lump there and moisture stung at the back of his eyes, so he looked away. A tension hung so heavy between them, Link wondered how it would be broken._  
   
 _Thankfully, something did it for them: a royal messenger hawk swooped low between them without warning, dropping a letter on Revali’s lap._  
   
 _“Hylia, does this King have timing…” he grumbled, ripping the letter open._  
   
 _Recovered, Link gazed at the paper Revali held in his hands. There wasn’t much to it but it was held at an angle he couldn’t read. “What does it say?”_  
   
 _“‘I am ordering all champions accompany Princess Zelda and her knight to Mount Lanayru for her seventeenth birthday. Please rendezvous at Kakariko Village in five days,’” Revali read aloud. “See? He can’t even bother to write your name!”_  
   
 _Link let out a heavy sigh. “It’s fine, Revali. I have the same name every hero has had for the entire history of Hyrule. It’s not that special.”_  
   
 _“Shut up, Link,” the Rito snapped, balling up the paper and throwing it off the cliff. “He makes it sound like we’re attending a birthday party. I wish the King had arranged_ my _seventeenth birthday party. Maybe it would’ve been more lively.”_  
   
 _“You’re only seventeen?”_  
   
 _Revali huffed. “No, I’m nineteen.”_  
   
 _“Oh. It’s weird...I thought you were older than that,” Link admitted._  
   
 _“Because I’m so mature and experienced, of course.”_  
   
 _Link let out a bark of laughter because he knew that Revali was joking. Ten months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to identify the difference between serious bragging and sarcastic joking. Learning that Revali possessed the same brand of sarcasm as himself had been the turning point in their relationship._  
   
 _They fell into the companionable silence Link had needed for weeks and he couldn’t help but let out the breath he had been holding for what felt like that entire time._  
   
 _They stayed there until the sun set, the world around them illuminated by a half moon and a splatter of stars. Even when fires were slowly extinguished in Rito Village, they stayed there. Link closed his eyes and tried to imagine they weren’t champions, Ganon wasn’t returning, and they were just…_  
   
 _Friends._  
   
 _That was the word Link meant, but that wasn’t the word his mind attempted to end the sentence with. And this wasn’t the first time it had happened. A gentle storm had been brewing at the back of his mind for ten months now, and as the stress increased, his control fell more and more every time they saw each other._  
   
 _Did Revali feel it too, or was Link just being clingy? Perhaps he was just flailing for the first person to not treat him like the Hero with the sword. Revali called him out on his shit and pushed him to be better in ways that none of the other champions did. And Link was the only person Revali seemed to let down that prickly facade for. Or at least it seemed that way. Who else was the Rito even close with in the village? He held everyone at arm’s length...except Link._  
   
 _When Link and Zelda arrived at Rito Village, Revali would actually stop training and meet with them. He would ask the important questions—_ how are the other champions fairing with their beasts _and_ what percentage of power were they at _and_ were there any reports of Ganon’s minions _—and then, when Zelda would be in a meeting with the Elder, Revali would ask Link how he was. Not,_ how is the champion that’s supposed to save us all _? But,_ how are you actually doing, Link _?_  
   
 _It hadn’t occurred to him how out of the ordinary it was until one day, after answering Revali’s question the best he could, Zelda later said, “I didn’t know you were experiencing that much pain from that injury! Why didn’t you tell me?”_  
   
 _Revali cared. How much? Link could never settle on a universal answer that would soothe his anxiety when he felt like this. But Link cared_ a lot _. So much, it was scarier than Ganon. He caught himself staring all the time—the shine of his deep blue feathers, those brilliant green eyes, the controlled power in his wings._  
   
 _Softer words that nearly revealed all were always a breath away for Link, threatening to destroy the oasis they had found together at the meadow._  
   
 _But then, the meadow couldn’t protect their mortality. What if Link perished before he could say…say what? He didn’t know. But now, more than ever, he felt that dark terror lingering somewhere in his gut. It threatened lost opportunity, stronger than the fear of rejection._  
   
 _Mount Lanayru was the last attempt to unlock Zelda’s powers. Whether she failed or succeeded, Link couldn’t chase the fear that just going there would set things into motion. Irreversible things. And, somewhere between his fears for the battle to come, there was a completely new one:_  
   
 _What if he died and Revali never knew how much he meant to Link?_  
   
 _“Revali?” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, something in his tone clearly off. If only he had at least cleared his throat before opening his mouth. But then, he hadn’t planned on even speaking in the first place—those softer words that nearly revealed all were...about to reveal all. He could feel it and, as though he was now only a passenger to his body, he turned his head to look at the Rito and—_  
   
 _“Don’t.” Such a defiant word, yet it came out so softly. “Just...don’t.”_  
   
 _“Don’t what?”_  
   
 _“Say what you’re about to say,” he replied, not looking at Link. Revali stared ahead, seemingly as if his life depended on it._  
   
 _“Okay, now you’re psychic? You can’t just keep adding abilities,” Link said. And he wondered if Revali_ actually _knew what he was going to say. And what would that mean? That Revali had known about...whatever this was for a while? If so, did that mean rejection?_  
   
 _But no, not with that expression. He looked...flustered._  
   
 _“What do you think I’m going to say?”_  
   
 _“What people say when things are tense and the risk of failure and death is at its highest. It makes...things more difficult,” Revali explained, voice growing more pinched with each word._  
   
 _“Uh...okay.” Link paused, trying to decode the situation with his sub-par social skills. Was Revali really going to talk him out of saying what he wanted—no,_ needed _—to say? He was on his feet before the thought crossed his mind to stand. “You don’t make the rules. You don’t get to decide what makes things ‘more difficult’ or not. For me,_ not _saying it makes things more difficult because_ any day _Ganon will return and tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”_  
   
 _“You sound like a corny motivational speaker,” Revali grumbled._  
   
 _“I don’t care!” Link shouted. He pointed up at Medoh, engines whirring high above them. “That divine beast can’t guarantee your survival. What if you die before I can tell you how much—”_  
   
 _“Stop.” And Link did because it wasn’t a command—it was a plea. Revali was on his feet, too. “Maybe it’s easy for you to speak your mind, but it isn’t for me. I’ve told you my story. You know why I am the way I am. So believe me when I say this will make things harder for_ me _.”_  
   
 _“Revali…”_  
   
 _“Goddess, don’t say my name like_ that _, Link.”_  
   
 _“Are we...even talking about the same thing?” Link asked, feeling so completely lost in their non-conversation._  
   
 _“I’ll...I’ll answer that after the battle. After we save the kingdom.”_  
   
 _“_ Revali! _What if we—?”_  
   
 _“Die?” the Rito finished for him. “Then we’ll just have to live. I think...that discussion is worth living for.”_  
   
 _Before Link could argue, Revali ignited his column of air and shot straight up into the sky. The gale left behind whipped Link’s hair into his eyes, almost knocking him off his feet. He watched as the dark shape landed on Vah Medoh, the emptiness of their conversation echoing in his mind and making him feel small._  
   
 _Link stared at the divine beast, angry and hurt that Revali’s feelings took precedence over Link’s. Sometimes he forgot just how selfish the Rito could be. And now, days before their last shot to unlock Zelda’s powers, he didn’t want the reminder._  
   
—  
   
HAHA you might be thinking to your, “Wow, how could this get any more angsty, tho??” Hold that thought…  
   
Thank you so everyone that’s left lovely reviews. I’m so happy y’all are enjoying this trash. :’)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three  
   
   
When Link finally returned to his body, the sky was black, the moon having set. Only the gentle glow of blue nightshade at the base of a tree nearby and the distant torches of Rito Village illuminated his vision. That feeling, the one from Faron, hit him with the force of a Goron, threatening to drag him into a rage.  
   
Link had known, somewhere in his mind, that there were... _things_ between him and Revali. He had sensed that the moment he first uncovered that memory on the landing. He sensed it when he reached Medoh. He sensed it even more when he defeated Windblight and came face to face with him. It was as though he had been cataloging pieces of an enormous puzzle, but none of them made any sense until those last few pieces had been added.  
   
 _There_ is _a reason Zelda sent me—but if you don’t remember, then never mind._  
   
Revali had been counting on that conversation. What it contained, Link still wasn’t completely sure, but that reality struck him to the core. Despite his thousands of injuries, this ached in his chest in a way he had never felt.  
   
Link still felt the same way he felt back then. The memory helped but he knew he would’ve gotten there eventually. Something like that didn’t just fade. And as much as it terrified him, he couldn’t let it go.  
   
Could Revali? He thought about their interactions since being returned from the dead, trying to see it through the lens of what he knew now and...it hurt to think about. Link could see that familiar expression, the same one Revali wore in the meadow of his memories and how it had slipped further and further away since Link disappeared into the wild.  
   
So _that_ was what Link did to hurt him. Even though it wasn’t his fault, Link couldn’t help but hate himself for it.  
   
What did he do now? Find Revali and say, “I remember the _thing_ between us now and we’re supposed to talk about it”? What if Revali hadn’t been talking about anything romantic? What if he had just been wishing to avoid the whole, “We’ve had our differences in the past but now we’re best friends and I want you to know I cherish our friendship before we die”? Those were two completely different conversations. How would he even bring it up next time he saw Revali?  
   
He didn’t have to wait long.  
   
A telltale _whoosh_ of wings snapped his attention upward and he watched as Revali tossed up the lantern he’d been holding with his foot _just_ as he landed, only to catch it effortlessly in his hand. Link was annoyed, mostly because he could tell Revali didn’t have to think about the motion—he did it all the time, probably. Link doubted there was a single equivalent he had to something like that. There was nothing about him that had ever exactly communicated “effortless.”  
   
“I figured you would be avoiding me, _not_ coming to Warbler’s Nest,” he said, furrowing his brows. He opened his beak to add whatever at-arm’s-length thing he wanted to add next, but he seemed to really _look_ at Link and paused, unsure. “Are you okay?”  
   
Not realizing he’d been in something of a daze, Link cleared his throat and said, “Um, yeah. Why?”  
   
“Oh, I don’t know, you’re sitting alone, in the middle of the night, in _this_ meadow, crying?” And he said it in a soft way that made it clear Revali was _trying_ to be gentle about delivering the news that he was—  
   
He was crying? He wiped his hands over his numb cheeks, finding them saturated. “Oh.”  
   
“Do you...are your memories back?”  
   
There was a timbre to his voice that Link hadn’t heard before but in his memories. It was soft and hopeful and he was suddenly stampeded by that _feeling_ again.  
   
“Just the ones from...from this meadow. I think.”  
   
Revali stood there for a moment, in a mask of concentration, likely analyzing the situation for some mode of escape or…  
   
He set the lantern down on the grass and sat beside him in a motion that felt so surreal after viewing the past as simply a spectator. And it also felt so familiar, as though there was some part of Link that had never really forgotten the solace they used to find together in that meadow.  
   
“How did you even know to come here?” Revali asked.  
   
“I asked Lady Impa.” Link paused for a moment, fixing the Rito with what was assuredly a glare. “Since you made no effort to tell me about it.”  
   
There was a long, frustrated sigh and then, “Look, for just a moment, think from my perspective. We kept each other sane, here. For almost a year, too. We were close. And then, after I die, I don’t see you for a hundred years. You show up, free my spirit, but you have no idea who I am. You don’t remember anything about our past, so it was easy to just…”  
   
“Push me away,” Link provided.  
   
“Only while I was dead. It was easier to take that option. I didn’t expect to be brought back. I suppose I thought that if Hylia was willing to resurrect me, surely she would have returned your memories at some point. And then...you just went back out into the wilds. I thought that maybe it was just your way of coping with the battle or the return of all those memories. I wasn’t going to push you—I did _plenty_ of that a hundred years ago.” Revali stopped speaking for a minute, turning to finally meet Link’s gaze. “I started to convince myself that you remembered but just had no interest in remaining friends.”  
   
“Because you’re an idiot,” Link admonished.  
   
Revali rolled his eyes. “You’re the idiot that didn’t tell anyone he still didn’t remember anything.”  
   
“Everyone knows I’m an idiot.”  
   
“You’re not _actually_ an idiot,” Revali amended. “You’re just socially inept.”  
   
Link raised his eyebrows and pointed at himself. “Me? _I’m_ the socially inept one here?”  
   
He was loving every second of the banter...but the smile slid off Revali’s face and he looked away.  
   
“You don’t remember everything, though.” Buried in those words was a sadness that rang within himself as well. Link knew that was true and it hurt so deeply, he was breathless for a moment.  
   
“We were supposed to...have a conversation after Ganon was defeated,” Link said quietly. There were those softer words that threatened to reveal all and he wasn’t going to stop them.  
   
Revali took his a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face and shaking his head. “No.”  
   
Anger began to build in his chest. “Don’t give me that. We both died. We’re lucky to even be alive and you’re saying _no_?”  
   
“You don’t remember _everything_ , Link. Our whole existence wasn’t in this meadow. We can’t have this conversation when you’ve only regained a handful of memories.” His tone was flat and he didn’t look at Link, which just further incensed him.  
   
“Oh, so now I’m just being given another quest? First it was _defeat Ganon_ , now it’s _go collect more memories_? It’s not like collecting spirit orbs, you know! How many hoops do you want me to jump through just to have just _one_ conversation about—”  
   
“You’re not the only one that went to Impa, Link! She told me about the fountain. This isn’t a _quest_. This is your _life_. Don’t you _want_ to remember?”  
   
This information stopped the next few words in their tracks, his mouth snapped shut and he stared at the dark grass between them. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Revali was right about at least one thing; he _did_ want to remember. So badly. And not because of Revali’s ridiculous argument that they couldn’t have the conversation without the prerequisite memories. But because not knowing had been haunting him since the day he awoke and if going to the castle was the only thing standing between him and his past…  
   
“I’m...I’m terrified of that place, Revali. I can’t even, even _look_ at it on the horizon. Everytime I do, I—”  
   
It was humiliating to say, but Link ground the words out anyway. He had to ensure Revali understood his refusal to go back, that it had nothing to do with the conversation and whatever hope it held. That, and he knew...he just knew that the longer he held in that fear, the bigger it would grow. If there was anyone in the world he was willing to be vulnerable with, it was Revali. He could sense that that had been true for over a hundred years.  
   
“I haven’t stepped foot on Medoh since I came back,” Revali told him, voice so quiet and low. His eyes held a kind of pain that made Link want to look away, as though he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to be watching. “I can’t look at her, either. It’s harder when I fly. She and I still have our bond so she...still calls out to me. But I can’t go up there. Every time I even entertain the idea I...I begin to panic.”  
   
It looked like it took effort, but Revali forced himself to meet Link’s eyes, his expression so open Link’s brain stopped working for a moment. “If I were you and regaining my memories were on Medoh...I’d be up there in a heartbeat. It would be worth the pain.”  
   
“Revali,” he replied, shaking his head, “of _course_ it’s worth it.  
   
“Then let’s go.”  
   
“You’ll go with me?”  
   
The Rito gave him the most incredulous glare he had ever seen in his life and he nearly laughed at it. “Are you kidding me? You honestly think I wouldn’t go with you? Never mind, you _are_ an idiot.”  
   
Revali was clearly trying to make him laugh and it worked. But the laughter came out nervous. He could already feel the anxiety coiling in his gut—was he really going to do this? Of course he was. And he was already shaking. He could already see the castle in his mind, but it was the castle still possessed by Ganon, not the restored one that stood today. It was like a dark imprint stained into his memories, the roar of Ganon building in his ears.  
   
A warm wing came around Link’s shoulders and he jumped, eyes on Revali and meeting the warmest expression he had ever seen. The sharp quality his eyes always held was dulled in a way he didn’t expect and they held him hostage for a few moments.  
   
“It’s going to be fine, Link.”  
   
“I’m going to—I don’t think you understand how badly I’m going to—”  
   
“I’ll send word to the Queen so arrangements can be made. No one will see you other than us.”  
   
“But I don’t want people to see me like that.”  
   
“Since when am I _people_?” he stressed. “Even with the few memories you’ve gleaned from the meadow, surely I’m above that title.”  
   
“I don’t want you or anyone else to see me whittled down to a, a—”  
   
“A child?” Revali finished for him. “You’re not a child. You’re a soldier. Soldiers come home from war and they aren’t the same. That’s nothing new. You have seen more than any soldier alive today. I think you have every right to panic.”  
   
Those soft words were beginning to untie all the knots in his chest and he held on to every syllable, taking the boon that was being offered. Link closed his eyes and focused on the warmth radiating from the arm around him.  
   
“Do you trust me?”  
   
The question threw him off for a moment and his eyes fluttered open, fixing the Rito with a confused look. And he actually looked _uncertain_. How could Revali be uncertain of that?  
   
“Of course I do.”  
   
Revali smiled. Had Link ever seen him _really_ smile? “Alright. Let’s go rest. We’ll head to the castle in the morning.”  
   
—  
   
For at least two distinct reasons, Link didn’t sleep well. The first, and most obvious, was that he was petrified of what the next day would bring. The second was being in Revali’s house.  
   
It was unique in that it had walls—he had it built high above the village where the chill winds were too merciless for the typical, open living of the average Rito. And that was likely for good reason when one considered just how private Revali was.  
   
He was submitted to a more concentrated dose of the warm, alpine scent that seemed to follow Revali around and breathing it in all night did nothing to calm Link’s mind. In fact, his mind wandered all night, far too aware of the Rito sleeping on the other side of the room with nothing but two curtains separating them. The few hours he did manage were full of vague dreams; muffled words, the feel of smooth feathers and soft down between his fingers, and the color of champion blue.  
   
Revali woke before him and returned with breakfast by the time Link was up and packing his gear. They ate in silence—not uncomfortable silence, but certainly the distracted kind. Link managed a few bites but his stomach twisted around so many times, he couldn’t even lift his spoon.  
   
As they prepared to leave, Link pinned the ornament for the headdress into his hair, feeling the familiar warmth of the the cold resistance spell activating. When he glanced up, he realized he was being stared at. It was a critical gaze, however, one Link wasn’t so sure he wanted to be on the receiving end of.  
   
“Nekk made that armor?” he asked.  
   
Link nodded.  
   
“Hm.” Revali gave his armor one last frown, shook his head, and stepped out into the walkway.  
   
Why he had an issue with Link’s armor, he had no idea. He was too anxious to pry, however. They descended the village, people wishing them good luck in their travels, seeming to be equally pleased to see both Revali _and_ Link. He idly wondered what the rumor mill was like in Rito Village. He doubted Revali cared—Link certainly didn’t.  
   
When they reached the edge of the village, the bridges ahead of them, Revali turned and asked, “Alright, how do you want to do this?”  
   
“This?”  
   
“Travelling. What will be easier for you? We could warp there with the Slate or, if that’s an overload, we could travel normally. We can fly or you can take your horse. You call the shots.”  
   
“Uh, I...I don’t know. All of it is terrible,” Link replied, as honestly as he could. He could feel his hands already beginning to shake.  
   
“Will the Slate transport two people?”  
   
“Yeah, if you’re holding it as well.” Zelda had been itching to perform some tests on it. Link let her do all the testing she wanted after her coronation, to make it up to her for not attending. He really needed to apologize to her if he survived the freak out ahead of him.  
   
“Is there a shrine near the castle?”  
   
“By the docks.” The words came out so quiet, he had to repeat himself in a louder voice.  
   
“Okay. The guards know to clear people out the moment they see us. It will just be us until we get to the west dungeon. Zelda will have already found the fountain, I’m sure.”  
   
Link nodded, mouth clamped shut. His heart was already crashing in his chest, the rush of adrenaline in his ears making his mouth go dry. He tugged off the Snowquill armor, predicting his panic would overheat him anyway despite the approach of fall.  
   
“Are you ready?”  
   
He wanted to say something funny, but no force in Hyrule could’ve pried open his jaw, so he simply nodded again. Sheikah Slate in hand, he selected the appropriate shrine as Revali held the other side of it. And then they dis—  
   
—appeared at the shrine under the great shadow of the castle. For a moment, they simply stood there. Link didn’t move; he just stared up at the hulking mass, taking in each graceful line, each turret, each curve of ornamentation. Objectively, it was a very handsome piece of architecture, perhaps more beautiful than it was pre-Calamity. And he could almost convince himself that his fear was unfounded and he had simply built it up in his mind.  
   
But then the sunshine dimmed and red and gray smoke began to fill the air. He was abruptly immobilized, as if an ice lizalfos had spat and entomed him in ice. His eyes darted around, desperately trying to see past what he _knew_ wasn’t real. But the vision wouldn’t budge, so he just shut his eyes tightly.  
   
“Let’s go, Link. It’ll be better once you’re inside.” Revali’s voice was gentle and encouraging. Link felt so guilty that it wasn’t enough. Because it _should_ be enough. There was a warm wing around him again, nudging him forward, and that heat was enough to melt the ice. “You’ll have to open your eyes, you know. You’re going to trip.”  
   
He nodded, the motion anything but controlled. When he opened his eyes, he still saw the miasma that once surrounded the castle. “I—I still see the—”  
   
“But it’s not real,” Revali reminded him, pulling him forward, off the pedestal of the shrine. “It’s just your mind playing tricks. Let’s get inside.”  
   
Link felt disconnected from his body, merely a ghost being guided by Revali. He wished ghosts had no need for air; he could vaguely hear his labored breaths, rattling in his lungs like an elder at death’s door. Not a healthy twenty-year-old.  
   
He felt pathetic and feeble. In that moment, he wished so desperately that he hadn’t come. That he wasn’t dissolving into a shivering coward. That he was strong enough to fight the fear and the hallucinations that filled his every sense—the idle roar of Malice, the smoking air, the thick scent of sulfur and death, the whirring hum of possessed guardians, the snorts and growls of the beasts that watched the castle’s borders…  
   
There was a piercing ring in his ears, the same sensation he received after suffering the kick-back of a bomb detonated too close or taking a club to the skull. Wherever he was, it was dim, with no recollection of his arrival. It was damp and dark and he knew, somewhere in his panic-addled mind, that he needed to sit before he passed out.  
   
Sliding down a wall, he clamped his head between his hands and pressed tightly, as though the pressure would force the shrill sound out of his head. Somewhere, lost in it all, he knew a voice was speaking to him, and he could feel the outline of feathers brushing his arms.  
   
“Focus on my voice.” The worried tone shoved its way through the gale in his mind and he knew it was Revali. “Link, can you hear me?”  
   
He did as the voice asked, focusing on his hands and where they were attempting to meld with his skull, forcing himself to nod. Yes. He could hear.  
   
“We are in one of the tunnels now. You’re safe. The battle was two years ago. Don’t fight it again. Don’t let that beast haunt you anymore. It’s gone now. The kingdom is safe. Thanks to _you_. Now believe me when I say you’re going to be fine—just _breathe_.”  
   
Each word drew him further and further out of the frenzied knot in his mind. This was Revali speaking to him. This was Revali telling him what he needed to hear. This was Revali supporting him, like he had done in the meadow 103 years ago. He needed to hang onto that voice, that comfort, that _promise_. Revali never broke his promises.  
   
 _He broke only one_ , a small voice provided, buried somewhere in his panic. But there was no time to analyze it now.  
   
“I—hate that this fi-fight did this to me,” he stammered, the sound foreign to his own ears. “I-I can’t make it stop.”  
   
“And that’s okay, Link. You have to let go of it, not stop it.”  
   
“I can’t—”  
   
“Yes you can. You can do this. Just listen to my voice and breathe.”  
   
Revali started reciting something in a language Link was unfamiliar with. It had a strange cadence to it, punctuated with clicks of his beak every so often, deliberate enough that Link had to assume it was part of the language itself.  
   
And just focusing on that much cleared his mind enough to take a few deep, shuddering breaths. His eyesight was blurry, although his current view was of his knees and Revali’s chest, where he was crouched in front of Link.  
   
Let go. That’s what Revali told him to do. A faint memory teased his mind, nothing like his normal recovery of memories, but just a few sentences…  
   
 _“I wanted to fight Medoh at first. Her presence...well, she is a piece of machinery. Yet there was still a quality to her, as though she was a person. I have never been the metaphysical type—you won’t find me praying or contemplating anything mystical. I prefer empirical evidence. I’m sure you have noticed that by now.”_  
   
There was an impression of a short laugh. Who it came from, Link wasn’t sure, but perhaps it had been both of them.  
   
 _“That was what made it so challenging, however. She was insistent, like a non-stop knocking on the door of my mind. It drove me mad for the first few days. I was becoming discouraged after the first week. I think the Elder could tell I was at a bit of a loss. So he told me to...let go.”_  
   
 _“Let go?”_ That was Link’s voice, strangely disembodied in his own head. He could vividly remember saying it, though.  
   
 _“I was approaching my connection with Medoh like I approach everything—endless dedication and hours of practice. I don’t really back down. From anything. But that was exactly what I had to do in the case of Medoh. I had to back down and just...let it happen. I had to let go of control, something I don’t do very well.”_  
   
Revali was still speaking, in a soothing way that felt familiar to him. Had he spoken in this language for Link in the past? He studied the lines of his armor, the swirled contours of the chest plate, the straps that went from it to the pauldrons, and the light blue feathers that hung from them. All of it was perfectly crafted and Link knew, somehow, that Revali had made it himself. Another snippet of memory returned. Hopefully everything else would follow if he could pick himself up from the floor.  
   
“What are you saying?” Link asked, voicing coming out as just above a whisper.  
   
“It’s the original language of the Rito. It’s been a little lost over the generations but the tribe I was born in spoke it exclusively. I was reciting an old story told to me by my father. I still remember it.”  
   
“This isn’t the first time you’ve told me, is it?” he asked, pleased that his voice only shook a little.  
   
“Once. Before the journey to Mount Lanayru.” Revali paused. “How are you feeling?”  
   
Link finally removed his hands from his head, palms sweaty and hair damp. He could still hear a slight ring, but it was manageable. When he lifted his head and met Revali’s gaze, he saw a tenderness there that…  
   
They were more than friends. Of course they were. If only he remembered just _what_ they were, though.  
   
There was a pain in the Rito’s expression, as though he didn’t like what he saw on Link’s face. It seemed to be an involuntary motion as he brushed Link’s hair back from where it stuck to his forehead, the feathery soft sensation of his fingers coaxing his eyes shut for a moment. He wanted to focus on that feeling, what that motion meant, what could be waiting for him after his memories returned.  
   
But there was no telling, Link reminded himself. He could be reading everything wrong. With his current memories...did he _really_ know Revali? What if Rito friendships were different? Could Link be any further out of his element?  
   
“Awful. But...you helped. A lot. Thank you,” Link finally replied, forcing his eyes open, dismayed to see Revali had moved back a little. Perhaps he thought he’d overstepped his boundaries in some way.  
   
“Then let’s get you to the fountain and then out of this castle. As much as I commend you for facing this foe...you look very pale.”  
   
Link let out a frail-sounding laugh—but it was a laugh nonetheless and that had to count for something. Revali helped him up, keeping a wing around his shoulders as they made their way down the small, dimly lit tunnel. He had no idea what part of the castle they were in anymore, but that was fine with him. It only made it easier to pretend he wasn’t in the castle, but rather some other tunnel, halfway across the kingdom for all he knew.  
   
As the minutes passed, Link found a little more of his strength with each step. Perhaps it was enough to hide the evidence of his freak out from Zelda…  
   
Oh, who was he kidding? She was so fluent in reading bullshit, there wasn’t any point in trying.  
   
And speaking of Zelda, they rounded a corner and there she was. She sat on a large boulder, surrounded by what Link began to realize was debris. and just a few paces from a large, rough doorway. The air was still hazy from what he assumed was the result of a bomb detonation, but that didn’t stop her from reading an old book laying open in her lap.  
   
Her aquamarine eyes snapped up at them from her book and emotion filled her gaze, emotion that was almost too unbearable for Link to see. She was on her feet and three steps later, hugged him so tightly, it was uncomfortable. But then, it _was_ comfortable. It was a hug that said so much: _I understand, it’s okay, I know_.  
   
She would say it too, though, if he knew anything about her.  
   
“Link, I’m so sorry,” she said in a soft voice. “I didn’t know. And this whole time I’ve been so...so… _mean_ to you about not coming here.”  
   
“It’s okay, I didn’t tell you. It’s my fault.” He squeezed back, as if to ensure his words made it past the skin. Because it _wasn’t_ her fault and it _was_ his. She still blamed herself for so much—he refused to allow her this too.  
   
Zelda pulled away, gazing at him with so much sadness, he had to avert his eyes. “You’ve been suffering these past two years and none...of us knew it. I should’ve known. I should’ve pestered you more, should’ve, I don’t know, _interrogated you_.”  
   
“Zelda…” But there was emotion tugging at his throat and if he kept speaking, he would choke.  
   
“You really haven’t uncovered any other memories? Other than the ones from the pictures in the Sheikah Slate?” Perhaps it was being Queen, but Zelda had learned when to leave a topic alone and handled it with grace.  
   
“A couple more. But that’s it.”  
   
She took a deep breath. “Well, let’s see if this works.”  
   
They followed her through the opening, a sizable rock nearly colliding with his head as it fell. Revali looked unhappy about it, seemed to almost open his beak to likely make a comment to the Queen about the hazards of explosives even _after_ said explosion, but appeared to think better of it.  
   
The corridor was dark, only lit by a dim light ahead. The air was stale and damp, sending a shiver through Link that almost convinced him to pull his snowquill armor back on. As they approached the light, it became clear that the light was coming from the water itself.  
   
The pool of water was perhaps knee-deep, crystal clear, and luminescent. A handful of fairies fluttered about and Link wondered how on earth they got there. A quick inspection of the stone walls and floors revealed no openings. Stood around the pool itself were a series of fine marble pillars, all joined by one circular architrave at the top.  
   
Link had never been the type to _sense_ things. He was foremost a warrior. The whole _sensing energy_ bit was mostly Zelda’s thing, but there was something about the room that felt warm and...safe. There was nothing he could see to suggest it, but somewhere within himself, he _knew_ it.  
   
“It’s...it’s beautiful,” Zelda said, voice hushed through the hands that covered her mouth in awe. “The texts say that the fountain has been here for a millennia, that at some point, the Royal Family built the castle atop it to protect it.”  
   
“Or hoard it,” Revali provided.  
   
Zelda rolled her eyes at him. “This isn’t a history lesson on the troubled past of my ancestors. Clearly, at some point, _someone_ sealed it. A very long time ago, too. I have to assume the Sheikah were somehow involved—I mean, how else would Impa know abo—”  
   
“Zelda,” Link interrupted, giving her a pained expression, “I would really love to get my memories back and leave the castle. I’ve had...enough excitement for one day, okay?”  
   
She gave a faintly sheepish smile. “Sorry. You know how I love history. From what I have read, it heals all wounds of any kind. The subject just lays in it and must let go of all worldly burdens.”  
   
“Let go…” Link repeated, thinking of the memory fragment he had received amidst his breakdown. He found Revali’s eyes, the ethereal glow of the pool turning the green into a heavenly emerald. “Like you did with Medoh.”  
   
Revali gave him a bewildered expression. “I didn’t tell you that in the meadow.”  
   
“I don’t know _where_ you told me that, but I half-remembered it when I was...when you told me to let go. Do you think it’s the same?”  
   
His eyes wandered away in thought. “I really don’t know. Perhaps?” There was a pause and Revali met his gaze once more. “Did it work when I told you to let go?”  
   
Link nodded.  
   
“Then I will remind you once you’re in there,” he said with a smirk. It was meant to be reassuring and it was.  
   
He turned to Zelda and asked, “Any idea how long I need to stay in there?”  
   
She bit her lip and stared at the pool in thought. “One of the accounts claimed that a subject with a mortal wound spent a whole day in the pool. In your case…” her green eyes shifted back to him, “I can only guess. It’s not that your mind is damaged—it’s just blocked. The memories are still there.”  
   
“How do you know?”  
   
Zelda gave him the kind of smile that a silly question would earn. “Because many have come back to you, whether triggered by location or words. You were held in stasis for a hundred years, Link. I think your memories never left that stasis.”  
   
“But then...that means there’s nothing to heal. If there’s no damage and this pool is meant for healing—”  
   
“ _Link_ ,” Revali cut in, “just get in the pool. It’s still worth a try.”  
   
Zelda nodded. “There is nothing to lose. I know you; you’ve always been a glass half-empty kind of person. Because you don’t want to get your hopes up.”  
   
“Zelda, _c’mon_ , ow, “ he complained. Never afraid to point out people’s flaws, Zelda. Perhaps because she had had one hundred years to make peace with her own.  
   
“I am just reminding you that it’s okay to hope. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll find a different solution.” There was a promise in her voice that made him want to squirm. Why, he didn’t know. Or she was right about his pessimistic worldview. And he’d challenge anyone who could blame him for it, after all he’d endured.  
   
The waters of the pool were warm, deliciously warm and inviting. Link could feel the sensation of water but his clothes remained dry. Gingerly, he sat down on the tiled floor, the water lapping at his waist. It was the strangest sensation, almost like the water was bubbling around him yet there was no evidence of it. He cupped his hands and brought the water closer to his face, spying some glittery substance floating over his palms.  
   
Link glanced back at Zelda and Revali, giving them a shrug—he wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen, but aside from the weird feeling, there seemed to be nothing happening. Zelda approached the edge of the pool, crouching down to examine the water.  
   
“Perhaps you should lay down. Memories are stored in your head, you know.” Zelda gave him a smirk.  
   
“Karma is real, you know,” he snipped back, hardly meaning it and pleased when she laughed.  
   
Link felt silly, but he did as she asked. It was an awkward sort of depth where he half-laid on the floor and half-floated on the surface. Staring at the ceiling in a pool of water reminded him painfully of how he had woken three years ago, so he shut his eyes and tried to focus on the gentle wave his movement had caused.  
   
And he laid there for a while, waiting as patiently as he could. He almost wished he’d just fall asleep because that would least be _something_.  
   
“Let go, Link.” Revali’s voice was so soft, he almost doubted if he heard it. Link’s eyes fluttered open and locked with Revali’s and...he looked beautiful in the aura of white the pool emitted. It shined on his feathers, casting them in a blue-gray hue, and lit his eyes up in a way that made Link _stare_. He probably could for hours if given half the chance. “You have to let go of that control. Like I did when I bonded with Medoh.”  
   
 _Like I did with us_.  
   
Where had _that_ come from? Link racked his brain, frantically trying to find the source but losing its trace immediately. Was it a memory? Or was it just his mind wishing for...for what?  
   
“Link, _close your eyes and let go_ ,” Revali ordered, tone exasperated but gentle.  
   
So he did. He shut his eyes and tried to think of a time he let go. Accepting spirit orbs—he let go then, allowing it into what he presumed was his heart. The first time he jumped off the Great Plateau with his new paraglider—he had been absolutely terrified he’d just plummet to the earth below.  
   
Everything around him was silent, then. He couldn’t feel the water anymore. He couldn’t feel _anything_ anymore. Link was just sort of...there. Wherever that was. There was a peaceful nature to it, though, and he waited.  
   
For what? What was he waiting for? For his whole life to pour into his head in one instant?  
   
 _No_.  
   
No?  
   
 _This is not the way_.  
   
Why not?  
   
When Link tried to move his body, planning to stretch out his arm to reach for whoever was speaking to him, he was shoved from that placid darkness. He gasped back into reality, sitting up so fast he felt dizzy. His arm was extended in front of him, still reaching…  
   
“Link! Are you alright?” Zelda asked, voice a little frantic.  
   
He stared at his own arm, watching it tremble for a moment, and then let it fall. He wasn’t sure how...but he knew what that voice meant. Anguish filled him, threatening another breakdown, so he pressed his face into his hands, as if that would stave off the tears.  
   
“Are your memories back? Did it work?” Revali demanded.  
   
“I heard a voice,” he said, hating the way his words broke.  
   
“What did it say?” Zelda was growing so impatient, she waded through the pool and crouched in front of him. “Link?”  
   
“ _No. This is not the way_ ,” he recited.  
   
They all fell silent. None of them really knew what to say. And the more moments that passed, the more pressure built up in his chest. It was like anger, but it was also like sorrow. Or maybe it was like fear; fear that he would never regain his life and he had hoped for nothing. Soon enough, he could no longer sit still.  
   
Link rose from the pool and left. Although their voices were muffled, Revali and Zelda’s words were carried by the echo within the tunnel.  
   
“I’m so sorry, Revali.”  
   
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”  
   
“Stay with him. Don’t let him—”  
   
“What makes you think I have any say in what he does? He doesn’t remember.”  
   
“Then—”  
   
The remainder of their conversation was lost. Link could feel the flow of fresh air and followed it. When he found his way out, the afternoon sun blinded him for a moment....and then the air turned smokey again as he remembered where he was.  
   
The castle. The failure in the fountain would only make this worse, he was sure. He scrubbed at his eyes because maybe, somehow, he could scrape that ugly filter from his vision. And when he opened them, everything would look normal. He wouldn’t be terrified of a castle, his memories would be back, and he could enjoy a peaceful life as the Hero of Hyrule.  
   
“Link. Link, _wait_.” It was Revali, voice on-edge in a way he seldom heard. “Let me get you out of here.”  
   
“Because you’re worried I’ll run off into the woods again?” Link shouted, opening his eyes to see nothing had changed—he was still terrified of a castle, his memories were still gone, and there was no life of peace waiting for him. “Maybe I will! It’s easier than being reminded that I’m only _half_ a person!”  
   
There was only pain in Revali’s expression as he approached Link slowly, like a cornered animal he hated to capture. “You’re _not_ half a person, Link.”  
   
“You’re right—I’m not a person _at all_. I’m just a Hylian chosen to save a kingdom. That’s it. Job’s over. Why I thought I’d be allowed _anything else_ , I don’t even know.” Link knew he couldn’t stand there much longer. The fear that had consumed him earlier was closing back in and he had to _run_. He fumbled for the Sheikah Slate at his belt, but a sudden gust of wind blew it out of his grasp. It clattered to the ground and when he looked back, Revali was in his face, hands gripping his shoulders so hard it sent a twinge down his arms.  
   
“Shut _up_ , Link!” he thundered. “You are a whole, _stupid_ person! Whole, because you’re still the same person you were a hundred years, even despite the things that have changed. And s _tupid_ , because you keep allowing yourself to give in to that poisonous voice in your head that tells you you’re not good enough, that you’re not worthy of love, that you’re better off alone, that you’re _nothing_. I know that voice because it’s the _same one in my head, too_!”  
   
Link just stared back, suddenly nothing in his head but for the memory of an argument he never knew:  
   
“ _No, Revali, I wanna know! Why do you have to act like you’re better than everyone else?_ ”  
   
“ _Fine! You really want to know? Because it is easier! It keeps people from getting too close to me! Why do you even care?”_  
   
“ _Because I care about_ you _, you stupid bird! I don’t fall for your act, so stop pushing me away! I’m not going anywhere!_ ”  
   
“ _Did you just call me—_ ”  
   
“ _You heard me. Now shut up and sit down._ ”  
   
Link could feel the anxiety closing up his throat, suffocating him. But he could also feel the warmth from that memory, a familiarity that made him ache in a way he never knew existed. Everything in him wanted to escape where he was and find solace in that comforting bubble of his remote memories.  
   
But he couldn’t. And Revali was standing in front of him _now_ , anchoring him to reality, staring at him with those passionate eyes, waiting for Link’s response. And he couldn’t have shoved any words out of his throat if he tried, for the tears were coming, obscuring his vision and making him feel weak.  
   
“Link…” He said it in a quiet, intimate way, likely seeing the tears and wishing to soften them.  
   
Link had no more fight left in him the moment he heard that tone, so he stepped forward and buried his face in the Rito’s neck, fingers finding whatever purchase they could on his armor and holding on tightly. Revali reacted without hesitation, wrapping his wings tightly around him and lending all that warmth.  
   
The feathers against his face were so soft, the down beneath them even softer. That alpine scent was impossibly strong now, overwhelming him and triggering more memories.  
   
“ _Do you preen your feathers, like other birds?_ ”  
   
“ _Link, stop calling me a bird. I’m a Rito._ ”  
   
“ _Be nicer to me and I’ll stop calling you a bird. So do you?_ ”  
   
There was a scoff and then a sigh. “ _Sometimes. It depends. It’s more upkeep than it looks, you know_.”  
   
“ _How do you braid feathers, though?_ ”  
   
“ _We just do. It’s not that hard._ ”  
   
“ _Can I touch them_?”  
   
“ _This isn’t a petting zoo, Link_.”  
   
“ _That’s not a no, though…_ ”  
   
“ _...fine. You’re lucky I like you._ ”  
   
There was a soft tap on Link’s back and he twitched a bit. “You’re exhausted. Let’s get out of here. Take us back to the village.”  
   
Link hummed in agreement, relinquishing his hold on Revali and stooping down for the Sheikah Slate. He felt embarrassed for losing his mind, but he was too tired to muster up the energy to do anything other than warp them back—  
   
—to the Shrine in the middle of the village. He finally looked up and met the Rito’s gaze, but there was no judgement in those green eyes; just sadness. When they arrived at Revali’s house, he was ushered to his bed and ordered to sleep.  
   
—  
   
 _“That is_ not _a braid, Link,” Revali said with a snort, surveying Link’s attempt on his own hair. “That is a mess. You’re not crossing the strands every time.”_  
   
 _The Rito reached forward, untangled his not-braid, guiding Link’s fingers to the strands. “You have to them cross like_ this _.”_  
   
 _While Link had hardly admitted it to even_ himself _, he couldn’t deny there was something soothing about the soft fingers against his own. Before he knew it, his mind began to wander, focusing only on that sensation and little else. The bad training session with Lady Impa and the shame it brought was beginning to fade and Link idly wondered if that was why Revali even offered to teach him to braid._  
   
 _“Are you even paying attention?” Revali asked, tone demanding despite the humor lingering somewhere beneath it._  
   
 _Link let go of the hair and said, “Thanks for distracting me from what happened with Impa.”_  
   
 _Revali paused for a moment, but then continued braiding. “It is only a temporary solution to your issue of dwelling on the past. But you’re welcome.”_  
   
 _He just snorted; they both knew Revali dwelled on the past, too. His hair was released and the Rito moved away, eyes shifting upward to Medoh, as they usually did those days._  
   
 _“I wonder how much time we have left,” Revali said. His expression was blank, clearly leagues away in thought._  
   
 _“Not enough.”_  
   
 _“Stop being a hatchling, Link. You’ll do better tomorrow.”_  
   
 _Link shook his head and gave Revali a dubious look. “And if I don’t?”_  
   
 _“I’ll kick you off the landing and defeat Ganon myself,” Revali told him, amusement glinting in his eyes._  
   
 _He let out a bark of laughter. “At least we have a backup plan.”_  
   
 _Revali, he was starting to realize, was the only person that ever managed to cheer him up._  
   
 _—_  
   
How many of you feel personally victimized by how angsty I am capable of making this?  
   
Thanks for reading and commenting, y’all are the best <3  
 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four  
   
   
Link gasped for air, sitting straight up in his hammock. It swung with the motion of his abrupt awakening and he slapped the wall to stop the motion. Firelight flickered against the fabric that hung between him and the rest of the room.  
   
“Are you alright?” came Revali’s voice from the other side of it.  
   
“Yeah,” he replied, word cracking in his throat. Running a hand over his face, he climbed out of the hammock and pushed the fabric aside.  
   
The brilliant orange light made him squint a bit, but he could still see Revali looking at him from his desk. Combined with the bright emerald, his eyes reminded Link of a burning forest. He sat heavily on the pillow before the fire, watching the glowing lines of crumbling wood. Perhaps if he kept watching, some sense of calm would penetrate the twisted feeling in his chest.  
   
“More snippets of memory have been returning to me,” he said, voice still a little rough from sleep.  
   
“What do you remember?”  
   
“An argument we had and you teaching me how to braid.”  
   
“The more you revisit the locations of your past, perhaps the more memories will return.” Revali’s voice sounded confident, as always, but there was a quality to it that made it clear he wanted to _convince_ Link it was true.  
   
The wind of their higher altitude whistled against the walls and Link found himself grateful that Revali had chosen not to follow the architectural trend of the rest of the village.  
   
“How long was I out?”  
   
Revali joined him at the fire. “A few hours.”  
   
“I’m sorry I…”  
   
“Don’t apologize. I knew things would be difficult for you. I knew what to expect.” And he looked like he meant it. Sincerity was still a new expression for Link and every time he saw it, it sent an odd thrum of _something_ through his chest.  
   
“Then I’m sorry I don’t remember. I know it makes things difficult for _you_ ,” Link amended.  
   
“That, also, is not your fault. You have always made a habit of apologizing for things that are not your doing,” he replied in an exasperated tone.  
   
“It’s hard to not feel guilty.” He paused, running a hand through his messy hair, trying his best to be honest. “Ever since I woke up, I’ve never had control over...over anything.”  
   
A brief moment of silence passed and, when Link glanced up at Revali, he saw the Rito staring at the fire too.  
   
“Trapped inside Medoh, I watched Hyrule crumble. For one hundred years. And I wasn’t _just_ trapped in Medoh—I was trapped in my own head. I felt guilt and shame for being so easily defeated. I felt loss at the deaths of our friends. I waited for you to awaken...but years and then decades passed and there was no sign of you. I had begun to accept that you may _never_ awaken. That the Princess’ power would wane, and the kingdom would be finally consumed. All of this transpiring under my watch, powerless within my possessed divine beast.”  
   
There was emotion growing in his voice, yanking violently on the knot already in Link’s chest. Revali finally met his gaze. “I understand exactly how you feel.”  
   
“How do you stop this feeling?”  
   
Revali gave a humorless laugh. “Link, if there’s anything you need to _stop_ , it’s thinking you need to _stop_ everything. Because you don’t _stop_ it. You find other outlets, in places or people or both. You focus on the things you _can_ control.”  
   
Link wanted to sink into those words, let them saturate his mind, let them imprint themselves on his skin. Places—he had been wandering around the kingdom for two years and never found a place that made him feel whole. Kakariko and Hateno both came close...but they weren’t enough. Rito Village likely came the closest, he realized. And it wasn’t just because of its peaceful atmosphere and shockingly gorgeous views.  
   
It was Revali.  
   
“What do we...what do I do now?” Link asked, feeling too unsure to assume he and Revali were even a “we.”  
   
“I want to take you somewhere.” His gaze flicked up to Revali’s, eyes still glowing orange and green. “Up in the Hebra mountains. There’s a place that might trigger an important memory.”  
   
“Okay,” Link agreed, wondering if there was anything Revali wanted that he wouldn’t do.  
   
Maybe not.  
   
—  
   
Morning came in a cascade of gold and rosy light, shafts of color cast across the wall above Link’s hammock. When he joined Revali at the rekindled fire, he received a warm gaze that chased away the early chill. He reached for his snowquill armor but Revali stopped him.  
   
“Here,” he said, a little forcefully as he shoved a bundle of armor into Link’s hands. “Nekk’s craftsmanship needs some work. This is better.”  
   
Link examined the thick tunic and leather chest guard. It _did_ seem better made, each stitch perfectly straight and perfectly spaced. His eyes passed over the feathered pauldrons and he froze, stomach jumping up into his chest—they were Revali’s feathers. For a moment, he was utterly overwhelmed, waves of sadness and nervousness washing over him like the waves of Eventide.  
   
“Revali, this is…? You made—?”  
   
“If where we’re headed returns this memory, you’ll know why.”  
   
The Rito gave him a firm look, then left the house to wait for him outside. And Link stood there for a minute, staring at the armor as his mind raced. He wished he knew anything about the Rito customs regarding the crafting of armor. But he couldn’t shake from his mind the Zora meaning of such things.  
   
Link sucked in a deep breath, pulling the armor on quickly and joining Revali outside. He might as well have stepped into the Highland Stable—the colder temperature of the higher altitude had no effect on him. The armor was thicker and more insulating than Nekk’s and Link couldn’t have hidden his impressed expression if he tried.  
   
Revali stared at him, eyes moving over Link’s shoulders, a warmth passing his gaze in a way that made Link’s stomach jitter. Had he worn the armor before? Or was this the first time Revali had seen it on him? He wanted so badly to ask, but he recalled Revali’s words and hoped he was right.  
   
The nerves thrumming in his chest made kneeling on Revali’s back and gripping his bronze-colored pauldrons an intensely awkward affair for him. Touching him at all made Link feel almost squeamish.  
   
The wicked, frigid air of the mountains began to slowly penetrate the warmth of the armor, but never enough to shiver. Considering the very likely possibility that Revali’s own down was what insulated him only made him blush, a favorable response in at least this one setting—his face felt less frozen and Revali would never notice.  
   
Link lost track of what peak they descended upon. Despite the gusts of turbulent air, Revali flew effortlessly. While Teba’s style of flying had been a bit wild and daring, Revali moved expertly, each flap powerful and intentional—Link would’ve expected nothing less, too.  
   
They finally circled down onto a snowy path, the loud crunch of snow underfoot a satisfying sound. Revali shook the frost off his wings as they regarded a wall of ice before them.  
   
“I thought it may have iced over again. Do you have any source of fire?” Revali asked in a puff of moisture.  
   
Link nodded, rifling through his pack for the flameblade he had been saving. It erupted into a smoldering fire once unsheathed and he pressed it against the ice where steam billowed out immediately. It took a few minutes, but eventually it melted away enough to step through a small opening.  
   
A shrine stood in an averagely-sized cave, glowing a soft orange Link hadn’t seen in a long time. Grateful to be out of the sharp wind that howled faintly across the cave’s entrance, he gave Revali a curious look.  
   
“Take your time,” he assured Link.  
   
“What if the memory doesn’t—?”  
   
“ _Stop_ , Link. It will.”  
   
Now nothing more than a bundle of nerves, he walked the perimeter of the cave as Revali sat on the steps of the shrine. He ran his gloved hand over the freezing wall, trying to maneuver his way back into that meditative state he’d achieved in their meadow. But Revali was with him this time, and he could feel the Rito’s eyes on him.  
   
Minutes passed and Link continued to pace, searching the black walls and snowy floor for any indication of memory. A blizzard was beginning to grow, the wind whining in a way that eventually became too much for him and he used Cryonis to seal the entrance, cutting the volume in half. But even with the quieter environment, his resolve was beginning to fray.  
   
“Come here,” Revali called in an exasperated tone. “Sit down.”  
   
Link shook his head. “No, I can’t—”  
   
“ _Link, sit down_!” he ordered.  
   
Revali met his glare unflinchingly and waited for Link to give in...which he eventually did. Something about that look defused his anger and it worked so effectively, he wondered if he should feel concerned.  
   
Link sat heavily on the steps of the shrine and pressed his face into his hands. “I don’t know why it’s not coming to me.”  
   
“Because you’re forcing it. You need to relax.”  
   
“In the—what, 104 years?—you’ve known me, have I _ever_ relaxed?” he asked in a strained voice.  
   
“A few times.” Revali gave a long sigh. “Just take a break for a few minutes and then you can go back to pacing.”  
   
They fell silent for a little while, the steady hum of wind the only sound to fill the quiet while Link rested his forehead against his arms and closed his eyes. What memory could be waiting for him here? It was clearly important to Revali so he had to assume it had been important to him too. What if he never uncovered it? He opened his mouth to try and ask that question once again but then he felt something gently pull his hair.  
   
Link fiercely fought the trained instinct to react, feeling warmth pool in his stomach as Revali began braiding his hair. The sigh that left his lips was involuntary and he almost wanted to laugh—one touch and all his tension unraveled, more so than since he awoke almost three years ago. Every muscle in his body ached to shift closer to Revali, to—  
   
 _“In here!” Revali shouted over the howling blizzard, tugging at Link’s chest plate to push him ahead. “There’s an opening to a cave! Can you crawl through?”_  
   
 _Link wasn’t sure if he could but he nodded anyway. His couldn’t move his left arm, so he was forced to pull his left wrist to his mouth and bite down on his glove so he could crawl without stepping on his own arm. It wasn’t pretty, but it got him through. Another roar from the lynel reached his ears and he felt a stab of fear, staring at the opening in the ice for Revali._  
   
 _After a few breathless moments, he saw blue feathers coming through and he let out a breath he’d been holding for too long, sucking air right back in and almost choking on his own saliva like a moron._  
   
 _It was a cave, everything bathed in orange light coming from a shrine. And even though they still knew barely anything about them, its presence there was somewhat calming. Revali was at his side, crouching down, opening his beak to say something when they heard the lynel right outside the wall of ice protecting them. They both froze, eyes wide at each other._  
   
 _Revali was the only one of them that could fight now—Link’s arm was so broken, he might as well have been armless. But fighting a lynel in a blizzard in the Hebra Mountains wasn’t exactly a fight someone went looking for. Link knew Revali would do whatever was necessary to protect them and the idea of that becoming necessary was almost terrifying._  
   
 _It moved off. Thank Hylia, it moved off, snorting in anger that it had lost its meal. The relief siphoned all the adrenaline out of his body so he laid back in the snow and moaned._  
   
 _“Come on, get off the snow,” Revali ordered, pulling Link off the ground by his good arm and pulling him over to the shrine. He sat on the steps, dismayed to find it just as freezing, but at least it wasn’t wet. “Do you have wood and flint?”_  
   
 _The pain finally set into the break and Link couldn’t hold back the yelp when he tried to reach for his pack._  
   
 _“Let me do that. Do you have potion?” he asked, glaring at Link._  
   
 _He just nodded, knowing if he opened his mouth he would cry out. There was no telling if the lynel was still nearby so he couldn’t risk it, simply nodding instead. Potion? Sure. A full bottle? Not likely._  
   
 _Link closed his eyes and leaned back against the side of the shrine, trying to hold his arm in a way that didn’t feel as though it was being ripped off his body. Unsurprisingly, he found little success._  
   
 _“For Goddess’s sake, why don’t you ever_ finish _a bottle of potion, Link?” Revali complained, holding up three bottles with barely a third left. Link had no arguments in him, though, so he watched as the Rito set them down and made a quick fire with the scraps of wood and broken flint Link still had._  
   
 _“I...I have to set the bone before I give you the potion,” he said, casting Link a look he wished he had never seen. It was regret and pain and anger and frustration all wrapped up in a sucker punch. “I’m sorry.”_  
   
 _“Don’t-don’t_ apologize _, Revali,” Link said through gritted teeth. “I wish you didn’t...didn’t have to do it. But I-I know you’ll, you’ll do fine.”_  
   
 _Revali took a deep breath, crouching down next to him, and Link’s heart somehow managed to beat even faster. It was going to hurt. Horribly. He’d never broken a bone this badly and if holding it still hurt that bad…_  
   
 _“Here, bite this,” the Rito said, handing him a cloth from his pack. “You might...pass out.”_  
   
 _“Let’s hope I do,” Link grumbled._  
   
 _And he did._  
   
 _When Link woke up, it was with the oddest mixture of sensation—he was cold, but his head and neck were warm, his arm was mildly throbbing, his head felt strange from the potion, and his pillow was very soft._  
   
 _It was a battle to open his eyes but as soon as he realized that his head was in Revali’s lap, he was wide awake. The Rito was glaring at the fire, unaware of Link’s awakening, so he took those few moments to appreciate the perfect lines of his beak and elegant neck. He just barely ground his beak, the movement only really obvious from Link’s location._  
   
 _But then Revali’s eyes flickered down and he was caught._  
   
 _“Welcome back to the living realm,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”_  
   
 _“Kinda like I’m dreaming. Am I dreaming?” Even Link’s voice sounded dreamy to his own ears. Because in what universe would Revali let him lay on his lap? The same Revali that couldn’t have a sentimental conversation without flying off and postponing until they saved the kingdom?_  
   
 _“Unfortunately not. We are still trapped because of the storm and your arm is still broken, although it_ is _healing to some extent. We need to get you back to the village.” There was an undercurrent of panic hidden in his tone that sobered Link up a bit. But he wasn’t about to move until forced to—he would hang onto this closeness as long as he could. “At this rate, if we don’t get out of here by nightfall, we’ll never make it to Mount Lanayru on time.”_  
   
 _“Then we leave before nightfall,” Link said, more decisively than he expected._  
   
 _“No, you’re not dressed adequately for this storm, even if you were uninjured,” Revali argued._  
   
 _“I’ll be fine. I’ve weathered worse.”_  
   
 _“I should have known your idea of ‘warm’ clothes would be a warm doublet…” Revali gestured over Link’s body. “You’re shivering, Link.”_  
   
 _He took a moment to really assess his body and found, as expected, he was indeed shaking like a leaf in winter wind. And the potential solution summoned a blush so intense, he used glancing down at his arm as an excuse to try and hide his face. It was being held tightly to his chest by Revali’s blue champion scarf._  
   
 _“Sit up, I made soup. That should help you warm up,” Revali said, tone more motherly than Link expected._  
   
 _“Never knew you had such a—_ OW _,” his arm shifted painfully in the sling, “—motherly side,” Link teased as he slowly sat up._  
   
 _“Babysitter is more accurate in your case. You can’t go more than a day without an injury. It’s_ almost _impressive,” he responded, handing Link a cup of soup swaddled in a rag to protect from the heat. It was a welcoming sensation on his working hand, an even better one as it slipped down his throat and pooled in his stomach._  
   
 _“At least I keep things interesting. Can’t have you getting bored.”_  
   
 _“Yes, I can’t be bored when I’m unbelievably stressed about your growing collection of scars and reckless behavior.” There was a deep frustration sitting in his voice that gave Link great pause._  
   
 _“I don’t mean to stress you out,” he said, setting down the empty cup. “I...I know I do stupid shit. But I don’t…”_  
   
 _“Realize how much it affects people around you?” Revali provided, giving Link a hard glare._  
   
 _He nodded. After a moment, he was released from that expression that felt much like a snare he wanted to stretch out after being in. The Rito let out a sigh and shook his head. “I know.”_  
   
 _They fell silent after that. Link watched the fire and listened to the storm, wondering if it actually sounded like it was dying down or it was just wishful thinking. And in between straining his ears to the sound of wind, he thought of the night before, sitting in the meadow and trying to tell Revali how he felt before he flew away._  
   
 _He couldn’t fly away now, Link thought grimly._  
   
 _Could he really use their situation against Revali? Especially in the wake of a conversation about Link unknowingly stressing him out. He knew it probably took some effort to even share that in the first place. So could he, in all good conscience, push Revali into a conversation he claimed he just_ couldn’t _have until after the war?_  
   
 _But their current predicament was a prime example of why the conversation was necessary—there was absolutely no guarantee of either of their safety. Revali had broken his ankle a month ago, Link was knocked out cold for two days from a Moblin two weeks ago, and Revali’s wing was scorched by an errant fire arrow, grounding him for a week. While his own injuries outnumbered Revali’s, the Rito was always at greater risk of death leagues above the ground for most of his life. The aerial training he put himself through was far more dangerous than Link’s training firmly planted on the ground._  
   
 _So why not have the conversation now?_  
   
 _“Revali…” Link tried to avoid the tone he’d had the night before but it found its way back in that name._  
   
 _“Link.” Revali said it firmly, glaring at him. “Don’t start this again.”_  
   
 _“Don’t tell me what to do.”_  
   
 _“Then I’m asking you. Don’t?”_  
   
 _Link sighed, wincing when the movement sent a lightning bolt of pain up his arm. “There has to be some sort of compromise here, Revali. You don’t want to have this conversation because of certain ramifications...but I have the same issues with_ not _having the conversation.”_  
   
 _“I assumed that putting the conversation on hold was a compromise,” Revali grumbled._  
   
 _“How is that a compromise? It’s you getting what you want! Like usual, actually. You call the shots on a hell of a lot when it comes to us,” Link shot back. And then he had a tiny, internal panic attack at the word_ us _. What was Revali going to say about_ that _?_  
   
 _Revali froze, that word clearly inciting at least the same pause that Link felt._  
   
 _He took a breath and soldiered on. “Our current predicament is a great example of how fragile we all really are. I don’t_ try _to get injured. I do what I feel is right at the time. Since we stopped biting each other’s heads off, I’ve tried harder to avoid danger. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but I do_ try _. And even still, things like this happen.” Link pointed at his broken arm._  
   
 _“So, your argument is that we should assume we’ll die so we should have the conversation_ now _?” Revali demanded._  
   
 _“Yes.”_  
   
 _“Hylia, Link, could you find it in you to be a little more confident about our skills? All of us are strong and talented so I see no reason—”_  
   
 _“You can’t possibly be so naively confident!” Link jumped to his feet, the world spinning a bit when he did. But he couldn’t sit and have an argument. “I’m in no way saying that we’ll all fail and that we’re_ not _completely capable but it’s unwise to assume that—”_  
   
 _“Sit down, you idiot!” Revali ordered, standing up as well and holding Link’s shoulders when another wave of dizziness made him stagger to stay upright._  
   
 _“No!” he shouted, feeling his last thread of patience snap. “You make me so fucking mad, Revali!_ I’m _the one that has to fight Ganon, that has to carry this impossible weight, that has to save everyone whether I chose this responsibility or not, and you’re going to tell me everything will be fine? Don’t you understand that the odds of me making it out of this alive are so—”_  
   
 _“You’re going to survive, Link, don’t be—”_  
   
 _“Shut your beak and_ listen to me _, Revali!” Link bellowed, voice fraying under the strain of so much volume and the frigid air he sucked in to fuel it._  
   
 _A wave of dizziness struck again and he locked his good hand on Revali’s arm. Those forest green eyes were furious, even more dramatic with only firelight to illuminate them. He opened his beak to say something but, to Link’s shock, snapped it shut again—did that mean Link could finally speak his mind?_  
   
 _There was so much heat radiating from the Rito and Link wanted nothing more than to sink into the soft warmth. Link removed his hand from Revali’s wing, placing it gently on the side of his beak, potentially hazarding another broken arm if things went over poorly._  
   
 _“Can’t you see I’m in love with you, you_ stupid _bird?”_  
   
 _Revali might as well have turned to an icicle. He froze under Link’s touch, eyes wider than he’d ever seen them. And every alarm bell in Link’s body was blaring, heart thundering heavy in his chest and heat engulfing his face. He hadn’t planned to say that. In fact, he hadn’t even thought his feelings went so deep. He assumed some sputtering mess about emotions would come out of his mouth, not a declaration of love, clear as day...but there it was._  
   
 _“You…” Revali started to say, voice barely even a whisper. Slowly, his feathers were fluffing up, ever so slightly. Maybe someone else wouldn’t have noticed. But Link had an embarrassing habit of staring at those feathers at all times and he saw them lift. “You…”_  
   
 _Link had never seen him speechless before. Was that good? Goddess, he wished Revali would just respond alred—_  
   
 _The Rito pulled him close, wrapping his wings around him. And although it jostled his arm painfully, Link pushed his face into those dark blue feathers and looped the fingers of his good hand into a strap of his armor. The warmth rushed in and for a moment, he couldn’t imagine anything feeling more heavenly._  
   
 _“I’m not a bird,” Revali complained, a bit indignant, but mostly in a warm tone Link had never heard before._  
   
 _“I know, you’re a Rito,” Link supplied, voice coming out in a dreamy way that he probably should’ve been embarrassed by but couldn’t find the strength to care. Revali just...made him feel dreamy, he supposed. “And you’re very warm, thanks.”_  
   
 _“Perhaps if you considered Rito armor made for Hylians, you wouldn’t be this cold in the first place,” Revali said, voice sounding strained but not quite in the realm of stressed. “I’ll...make you armor.”_  
   
 _Link pulled his face from where it had been burrowed and gave Revali an incredulous look. “Does that mean…?”_  
   
 _“That’s a Zora thing, Link,” he said, tone exasperated. “And that’s bold of you to assume—”_  
   
 _“Thank you,” Link said, cutting off whatever nonsense Revali was about the spout; the question in Link’s mind was answered after one look at his face._  
   
 _He had never seen those green eyes and those hard brows so soft._  
   
 _“Rito exchange feathers,” he said, voice quieter and softer than Link expected._  
   
 _His stomach did one big, dramatic flip. “Are you saying…?”_  
   
 _“It makes everything more difficult,” Revali replied, “but...yes. If you want that.”_  
   
 _“Of course I-I do.” Link said it so quickly, he tripped over the words._  
   
 _“Okay. Let’s get you to safety first.”_  
   
 _—_  
   
Link resurfaced with a gasp that hurt his dry throat, nearly sending him into a coughing fit. He clambered to his feet, running his fingers through his hair but stopped when he reached a braid. Heat filled him up as he ran his mind back over that memory, like tracing a scar.  
   
“Link?” Revali’s voice was so unsure. Like he wasn’t certain Link wanted what the memory had given him. Which was insanity because Link was sure he wanted nothing more in the world.  
   
And now he could have it.  
   
A warm wing touched his shoulder and he looked back at Revali. They had both grown taller since that memory, his head not craning up as far when he met those guarded green eyes.  
   
“Do you remember?”  
   
“Yes.” Link turned and took Revali’s beak gently in his hands, pressing his lips to its gentle curve. “I’m so sorry I forgot.”  
   
Revali shuddered—oh Hylia, he _shuddered_ —and said breathlessly, “I forgive you.”  
   
The movement felt natural and he wondered if he had done it before or just wanted to for so long, his hands moved on their own. Arms were around him, pulling him closer and it was almost _too_ much heat combined with his armor. Not that any amount of heat could even faze him when he was _this_ happy.  
   
Happy. He was happy.  
   
“Did we…?”  
   
“Get married? No.” There was a darkness in his voice that Link wanted to erase the moment he heard it. “I promised you we’d do it after the trip to Mount Lanayru.”  
   
Link couldn’t help but wince. “This whole time you’ve...been waiting and I didn’t…”  
   
The Rito squeezed him a little too tightly and let go to give him a stern look. “No. You’re not taking blame for something that isn’t your fault. I had prepared myself for the potential…”  
   
“Heartbreak?” Link supplied.  
   
Revali scoffed at the word but nodded. “I wasn’t expecting anything from you. Other than for you to be safe and happy.”  
   
“This is the first time I’ve been happy since I woke up,” Link mused, shaking his head. “Maybe, for once, you _should_ have been pushy.”  
   
He scoffed again but he was smiling now and Link felt that dreamy feeling again, like he did in that memory.  
   
Revali’s arms shifted against his back in a sort of deliberate way and Link gave him a curious look. Then he produced a deep blue feather the size of Link’s palm and he was suddenly drowning in an emotion he couldn’t describe. Maybe it was happiness or maybe it was sadness that this should’ve happened sooner or maybe it was just immense relief that they had a second chance.  
   
He considered that perhaps Hylia had really been looking out for him.  
   
“Yes. Of course,” Link said immediately.  
   
“Link, I haven’t even asked you!” Revali complained, but he was laughing. When had he last heard the Rito laugh like that? Mocking laughs, sure. But this was a genuine, overjoyed sort of laugh and Link hung on to the sound of it, memorizing it, pledging to never forget it again.  
   
“Okay, okay, fine. Go ahead.”  
   
“Well there’s no point now that you already said—”  
   
“Revali, just ask,” Link insisted, brushing his thumb over those red feathers under his eyes.  
   
He seemed flustered by that, feathers fluffing up a bit. Link imagined it was a reaction he had to actively fight against—surely it was the Rito equivalent of a blush.  
   
Revali huffed, or maybe it was just a hurried breath to steady himself. “Will you marry me?”  
   
Link nodded, smiling so widely, it hurt his face.  
   
“Turn around so I can do it properly, then.”  
   
He did as told and felt fingers undoing the previous braid only to begin again. The sensation of gently pulled hair lulled him back into a calm that it seemed only Revali was capable of putting him in. If he had been in any position to fall asleep, it surely would’ve happened.  
   
Link could feel when the feather was put in place, that particular braid falling heavier than the others. His hair had grown long enough now that he could pull it forward and saw it was held by one of the green beads from Revali’s braids. He pulled off a glove and ran his fingers over the vanes, handling it like something fragile, which Revali was anything but.  
   
Seeing it held in his hair, the blonde mixed with dark blue…he felt like he finally belonged. Maybe for the first time in his life. He belonged in this world and, more importantly, he belonged to _Revali_. And that sent a thrill through him but it also brought a sense of peace. Like he had come full circle, and in a way he had. His resurrection and battle against Ganon had finally brought him back to where he left off.  
   
“What are you thinking?” Revali asked, voice soft and unlike anything Link had heard.  
   
“That…” He turned around, still holding the feather in his bare hand. “That I still don’t remember everything.”  
   
“That’s alright. We’ll find ways of triggering your memories.”  
   
“What if I’m a terrible husband?” Link then had a brief, internal panic attack over that word, wondering if that was even an acceptable term.  
   
“Link.”  
   
“And I don’t have a feather to give to you! What do I give you?” he continued, mind already racing.  
   
Revali took his hands, pushing warmth back into the bare one, and pulled him close. “Link. Your love is just fine.”  
   
And he couldn’t help but grin at that. It seemed that he had, at last, met his mark, inertia finally spent. Link took a calming breath and said, “Well…that’s easy.”  
   
   
\--  
   
I told you this shit ended with fluff. I told you to trust me. See??  
   
There’s technically a memory the day before they go to Mount Lanayru with Zelda. I left it out because Link and Revali would’ve been together by that point and he would’ve remembered it.  
   
There’s was no way I could resist taking the proposal method from Harvest Moon, which is literally presenting someone with a _blue feather_. Sorry, not sorry. Also, ya know I couldn’t resist the Link’s Awakening call out that maybe half of you got. This is why I’m single y’all.  
   
I hope this feeds some of my fellow hungry revalink people out there. Feels like we’re starving these days. Thanks for reading. <3  
 


End file.
